


It Takes Two

by MsSirEy



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: A whole host of social anxieties, Angst and Feels, Dance as a Metaphor, Dancing, F/F, Heavy flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Learning to Dance, Lena's history with dance, Lots of supercorp supporting each other, Minor Injuries, because I cant help myself, but no smut this time around, mentions of childhood trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26946016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsSirEy/pseuds/MsSirEy
Summary: In an unexpected turn of events, Lena Luthor and Supergirl are set to participate in a fundraising effort, and they have every intention of giving the world a good show. The only problem is that Kara needs to learn how to dance first. It doesn’t come as easily as they had hoped, and it isn’t until they realize that Kara doesn’t always have to be a leader that they find a rhythm that works for them.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 35
Kudos: 184
Collections: Supercorp Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we have my submission to the Supercorp Big Bang, which I am thrilled to have been a part of! It was an amazing experience, with so many fantastic people supporting each other through it. Please be sure to check out the brilliant [artwork](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCBB2020/works/27170033), done by bamalambe, and give her some love! 
> 
> I freely admit, this story was meant to be pure fluff, but I'm learning I am incapable of that. I hope you all enjoy!

The celebratory gala that doubled as a fundraiser served to remind Lena of just how little she liked not having control. The champagne was too sweet for her tastes, the lighting too harsh, the hall overcrowded. The turnout seemed to outstrip the capacity of the staff, an oversight that undoubtedly surfaced with Supergirl being announced as a guest. While it hadn’t been the intention of the organizers, a line had formed, wrapping through the hall, as people awaited their turn to speak to the heroes. With the din rising steadily, she couldn’t imagine what it was like for Kara, who faced the onslaught without her glasses to shield her. She was forced to resist reaching for Kara’s hand as she caught the way restless fingers twisted into the edges of her cape. 

Lena and Kara shared the stage, which meant Lena was not the focus. The spotlight would always prioritise Kara, or rather, Supergirl. Lena understood the fascination the public had with their kryptonian hero. She couldn’t hold it against them. 

Donors were met with the same courteous smile Lena was well used to wearing. She was familiar with being a public figure and being a recognizable face. She was used to being approached, to being questioned at every turn, to being held to a higher standard. But it was the families of the survivors that she was unaccustomed to facing. The impact she and Kara had on their lives was tangible. She had played a part in reuniting families, and it manifested in the way parents hesitated to let go of their children, even to allow them to step forward and thank Kara. 

Kara was in her element, shouldering the weight of the parents that embraced her as they sputtered their gratitude through their tears. She knelt to talk to the children, some of whom she had carried to safety herself. She was glowing, her smile bright and welcoming. She was the embodiment of a hero, of hope. 

Otherwise shy children felt safe with Kara. Most didn’t need encouragement to approach their savior, while those that did found Kara’s open arms enough of an invitation to step forward. They were sheltered in her arms, shielded from the sea of eyes that beared down on them. 

The line seemed endless, and unlike when she held LCorp benefits, Lena couldn’t bring herself to demand that the organizers took control over the event. She couldn’t deny anyone the chance to express their gratitude, even as her smile felt heavier and harder to keep in place. Lena was beginning to understand the extent that being a hero meant being a symbol. 

At some point, Lena had noticed a dwindling of cameras pointed at them, allowing them space to breathe, but it was most apparent when their presence surged. As the throng of press closed in tighter, an older child approached, and it took Lena only a moment to recognize that the child was the one who had become the face of the rescue. 

The room was ravenous around them, every head turned towards them and every voice hushed. The child, lifted up by the media for selflessness and bravery, looked so small as the weight of the air shifted. Her frightened gaze looked to anyone for guidance, overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. 

Kara held a hand forward, shrank the distance the child needed to walk alone. “Hey, Jamila,” she addressed the child by name, and Lena watched the tension in her posture ease. “It’s good to see you,” Kara continued softly.

Jamila’s first attempt to speak stuttered before cutting off, the pressure of the crowd stifling to anyone, and especially a child. But as her tiny fingers slipped into Kara’s steady hand, she smiled and tried again. “Thank you, Supergirl,” she breathed, relying on Kara’s strength to step closer, “for saving us.”

Every word was captured, every movement, every expression. Lena watched from the sidelines as the room salivated over every crumb, but Kara was not there for the masses. She was knelt, sharing that moment with Jamila. 

“I can’t take all the credit,” Kara’s voice was light, unburdened, but also uplifting. It rang with confidence, washing away the weight that hung over them. She turned a soft grin towards Lena, silently acknowledging her part in the rescue, before her attention returned to Jamila. “You helped save all these children,” she beamed as she reminded everyone of Jamila’s bravery. 

A small shake of her head marked the humble nature of the child. “I just did what I thought you would,” Jamila insisted. The words spoke to how Kara’s impact extended beyond just who she saved, how the seeds of hope she spread blossomed into bravery in even the most vulnerable. 

Kara’s smile only broadened. “We are all so glad you did,” she returned. “Come here,” she beckoned, gently guiding Jamila the rest of the way into her arms. As if finally freed to be the child she was, Jamila sank into Kara’s embrace, her tiny frame shaking as she cried. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Kara soothed. 

For once the appetite of the masses was forgotten. A courteous quiet fell over the hall, broken only by sympathetic sobs. For all that they were celebrating, the moment acknowledged the trauma the children faced. 

As sweet as the image of Kara hugging Jamila was, Lena swallowed as the aftertaste soured. She knew how many attending donors were chasing publicity, hoping for attention, and it had never felt so wrong that they were the ones with the power to affect change. 

The spell broke as Jamila’s head lifted from Kara’s shoulder. Her umber skin was streaked with tears that Kara carefully brushed away with the pads of her thumbs. “There you go,” she said as Jamila laughed with only a small hitch. 

When Jamila spoke again, the hall hung on her every word. “I, um,” she started shyly, “I got invited to go to the HC… the HC…”

“The HCRH show,” Kara supplied.

“Yes! You heard about it?” Wonder overtook Jamila’s expression. 

“I heard they reached out to you, yes,” Kara confirmed. “That’s very exciting!”

Jamila ducked her head as she squirmed excitedly. “I thought maybe you’d think it’s silly,” she admitted bashfully. 

“It’s not silly at all,” Kara assured.

“Will you be in the show?”

Time slowed to a crawl as Jamila expectantly waited for Kara’s answer. The briefest glance at the little girl’s father showed his mounting panic as he realized his daughter had cornered Supergirl by asking, while the whole hall held their breath in anticipation. 

“Oh, um…” Kara’s gaze flicked to meet Lena’s. Her eyes were wide, pleading for forgiveness, as the words tumbled from her lips. “Yeah,” she turned back to the child, “of course I will participate,” she agreed. 

The announcement was met with a flurry of flashes, the clack of shutters abrasive. Whispers rippled through the hall like a receding tide and fed into the approaching wave, rising higher, baring down. 

“What about you, Ms. Lena?”

Lena blinked. It wasn’t the politeness that caught her off guard, but instead the sudden recognition, and the way the focus of the entire hall shifted to her. 

Lena had been prepared to talk to Kara about maintaining her boundaries, even with a child, but when faced with the same question, elevated to the same standing as Supergirl in a child’s eyes, she couldn’t decline. 

“We are a team, after all,” she said. 

Jamila slipped out from Kara’s arms and rushed to Lena, throwing her arms around Lena’s midriff and squeezing tight. “Thank you, Ms. Lena.”

Lena stood frozen, released only when Kara rose to join her. They were directed to all stand together, Jamila between her two heroes, and that was the image that flooded the press coverage. 

~

That was how they landed themselves in a stuffy little office, tucked into National City University’s social justice department. Lena was grateful she had pushed back when her PR and legal teams had both insisted on being present. The poor HCRH administrator looked overwhelmed enough with Kara in her suit and Lena’s representatives hovering outside the door. 

“We’re so honored to have you both participating in our annual fundraiser,” Deb reiterated, as if it was the only thing she was comfortable saying. “We’ve never had anyone as well known as either of you in our show.”

“We are happy to help with the effort,” Kara assured. 

“Thank you! All the money we raise will be going towards helping children who have been displaced from their families,” she continued to sell the event. 

“A very admirable cause,” Lena acknowledged.

Kara nodded her agreement, but as Deb lost for how to continue, she cleared her throat softly. “Let’s go over our part in this event,” she offered guidance. 

“Right, yes,” Deb nodded as her gaze flitted between them. “Participants are each paired with an instructor who will work with them privately to prepare for the show,” she explained.

“It’s for the best if we are paired together,” Lena noted, careful to keep her expression neutral. “I am professionally trained--”

“You are,” Kara asked in an awed whisper.

Lena shot her a look before continuing. “And considering that I am already locked in the mountain of NDAs it takes to work with Supergirl,” she let the statement trail off as understanding dawned on Deb. “My team will work with you to sort out the details of how you are allowed to use my image,” Lena continued, “and they will also represent Supergirl, to keep things simple.”

“Right… simple,” Deb echoed, but looked increasingly overwhelmed. 

Kara piped up once more. “Why don’t we go back to the dancing part?”

“Well, um, this is an event for children,” Deb reminded cautiously, “so part of our goal is to cater to them as an audience. Some of the children we work closely with have been asked to submit song recommendations, and we will be selecting from those. We will, of course, try to make sure that each song is familiar and suitable for… well, usually for the styles the instructor knows, but I guess in this case the styles you are trained in, Ms. Luthor.”

“When do we find out our song?”

“You will get your song selection twenty-four hours prior to the event,” Deb supplied hesitantly, before rushing to add, “but, with all that in mind, this is not a competition. It is meant to be fun. Some people even improvise the day of.” She shifted nervously under Lena’s gaze. “We recognize that you are both very busy people, and truly, you could do the chicken dance on stage, or anything!”

Lena didn’t give Kara the chance to get any ideas. “We are not doing the chicken dance,” she stated dryly. 

Kara snorted. “It would be funny though,” she said as she nudged Lena with her elbow.

As they left the rest of the details to be sorted out by Lena’s teams, Kara leaned into her. “I want to give them a proper show,” she announced with a beaming smile. 

~

What started out as Lena calling in a favor with Sam turned into a lecture about how Lena should be taking time for herself. 

“Okay, okay,” Lena huffed into the phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder, “I get it; you can let it go.” She dropped the pile of workout clothes she had gathered on her bed before retrieving a duffel bag. “Kara and I are headed to the manor to avoid any press trying to catch us practicing.” 

Sam chuckled on the other end of the line. “You guys are really taking this seriously,” she commented.

“It is for a good cause,” Lena sighed, “but I really can’t say I expected to be dancing for a fundraiser,” she grumbled. “I usually just match their donations at the end.” She began shoving clothes into the bag. “Anyway, I’m sorry to call you back to National City, and on such short notice. It’s only for a month, and we aren’t that far, so you can always reach out.” 

There was a long pause before Sam spoke again. “You don’t need to wait for a massive event like this to ask me to take things off your plate,” she pressed softly. 

“I know,” Lena insisted, but she wasn’t fooling either of them. She didn’t give Sam the chance to comment. “I’m bringing my laptop with me, and Jess has instructions to keep me in the loop,” she warned, knowing her friend would try to limit the work that landed in her lap. 

“Lena, this is essentially a vacation. And the way Jess tells it, you’ve never taken one, so you need to try to enjoy the chance to be alone with Kara. You both deserve it.”

~

Kara was quiet as they left the car parked on the long driveway. Without a word, she had grabbed their bags and slung them over her shoulders, before starting towards the front entrance. After finding out that between the two of them, Lena was the better driver (she would thank Alex later for giving her that head’s up), Lena was not about to complain. She felt the toll of hours of start and stop traffic, tightness already settling into her left shin, the numbness in her ass just beginning to fade as they walked together. 

Lena watched as Kara’s gaze lifted, absently scanning the towering walls of old stone washed with the warm light of the evening sun. The Luthor Manor appeared almost inviting, and yet Kara’s expression remained distant. The wonder Lena had expected, the willingness to overlook stain that could never truly be scrubbed out, a trait that was so fundamental to the way Kara saw beauty, was overshadowed by unspoken thoughts. 

Lena reminded herself that Kara had been there previously, during their efforts to keep Ruby safe from Reign, but while she would not voice it, she had hoped to have that marvel to mute the glaring rot she could never unsee. To occupy herself as silence allowed room for soreness to resurface, Lena fished her phone out of her purse and let both Alex and Sam know that they had arrived safely. 

Forced to stop short when Kara turned on her suddenly, Lena’s head cocked. As she recentered her balance, Kara seemed to grow more unsteady, her weight shifting. “I know I said--” As quick as she began, the words died on Kara’s lips, her face twisted as if they were too soured to swallow down. After a slow breath and concerted effort to steel herself, she started again, determination overcoming the hollowness that kept her deflated. “I know I said I wanted to give them a proper show, but I didn’t mean to make you come here.”

It was then that Lena realized Kara had placed herself between Lena and the door, giving her the chance to walk away before they had even stepped foot in the prison of her youth. “You didn’t,” Lena assured, but Kara’s gaze dropped to her own hands, clasped at her front. Lena followed her gaze and they both watched her fingers fidget. 

“Kara,” Lena tried again as she slipped her hands beneath Kara’s and lifted them to her lips. She wished a kiss was all it took to soothe the restlessness. “I know you,” she whispered against tense knuckles. “I know you’re thinking about all the children who are excited to have their hero perform for them. I know you want to give them something to take their minds off what they went through.” Another lingering kiss gave her time to be sure of her words. “I want to help.” 

Kara’s jaw worked, teeth grinding softly, while her eyes shifted as if sifting through all the avenues laid out before her, desperate to make everything line up. “They deserve to know I care,” she acknowledged quietly, and for a breath Lena thought that was all that needed saying. 

“And they will,” Lena insisted. 

Lena smiled softly as Kara’s chin lifted, but faltered when the storm in her eyes seemed to darken the skies above them. She could feel the charge in the air, the hairs on her arms standing under the sleeves of her blazer. 

“I care about you, too,” Kara pressed closer, her gaze boring into Lena’s with all that intensity. 

The ache in Lena’s chest was bittersweet. “You don’t need to protect me from something I offered to do,” she tried to promise, but the words came out clipped, shorter than she intended. 

Kara blinked, otherwise frozen. The storm retreated, and the air from Lena’s chest went with it. “That’s not--” Kara swallowed her words. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said as she shrank back, her gaze averted. 

Lena felt constantly a step behind, never quite addressing the conflict that raged within Kara, the concerns that weighed heavy on her. “No, hey,” she soothed, “I know what you meant.” She smiled softly as Kara’s eyes lifted, wishing she could banish the twinge of worry in Kara’s expression. “But I need you to understand that I’m not going to offer what I can’t give.” 

Kara nodded, a small, hopeful smile emerging from behind her mask of concern. “Thank you, Lena,” she whispered. 

Relief washed through Lena. “This place should be used for something good, for once,” she shrugged, earning a chuckle from Kara.

The air was heavy as they made their way through the manor, ignoring entire wings. Their presence had long unused systems buzzing as they stirred, light greeting them before they entered each new hall, following their progress automatically. Ventilation kicked in, subtly breathing life into the manor, disrupting the stillness, giving the impression that it wasn’t an abandoned husk.

Lena walked without paying attention, muscle memory carrying her through the long halls, until she paused. “This is where we will practice.” A nod from Lena indicated a set of doors. “Do you want to look at it now, or wait for tomorrow?” 

“Oh,” Kara hummed, excitement beginning to bubble up within her, her step having more bounce. “Can I see it now?”

Lena chuckled and reaffirmed that she could. “Shoes off,” she instructed, wanting to minimize how much maintenance they needed to worry about. 

The doors opened into a room with curtain lined walls, the sprung floor immaculately kept. It looked just how she remembered, the empty floor washed with her sweat and tears, the hollow expanse a hungry maw that stole away her time. All that was missing was the watchful, callous gaze of Ms. Reynolds, waiting to tear her down. 

“What’s behind the curtain?” 

Lena blinked as she was jarred from her memories and she turned to the panel on the wall by the door. One click and the curtain on the far wall split at the center, drawing to either side, slowly revealing a mirror that covered the whole wall. 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Kara breathed, moving closer. Lena followed behind her, not as keen to see herself in that mirror, not when she couldn’t be sure that Ms. Reynolds wouldn’t appear over her shoulder. 

A bar ran horizontal along the whole length of the wall, secured just above her hip. “It’s for studying your form,” she explained, her fingers absently running across a small stretch of the bar. “The bar is there for support.” 

“Isn’t that what we have each other for?” 

In the time it took her eyes to roll at the corny comment, Kara drew closer. Her fingers followed the bar to meet Lena’s, tangling them together. “I don’t think you want me holding onto you while I’m practicing my pliés,” she exhaled with a soft chuckle. 

Kara hummed a rich, deep note that sent a pleasant little shiver through Lena, warmth following in its wake. “Maybe I would,” Kara purred, low and husky, and Lena couldn’t be sure when her marveling had turned into excitement, let alone reached such a fever. 

Kara drew Lena’s hand away from the bar, settling it instead on her waist. Lena made no effort to resist. A remark about Kara liking the idea of watching themselves in a mirror never fully formed and was forgotten as Kara pressed closer. There was a thrill in the air that Lena had never felt in that room, and she would be glad to let it write over her memories. 

“Maybe you should show me where we’re sleeping,” Kara suggested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for teasing a bedroom scene, but I technically (however barely) kept this to just flirting. 
> 
> Onward to some dancing!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To any dancers who might be reading, please don't judge me, lolol! 
> 
> Buckle up, this chapter is a ride. Enjoy!

“When do we get to actually dance?” 

The question was carried on a breathy groan, impatience threading heavily into the words, but Kara’s brow was lifted, her expression light, her eyes pleading. Lena couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft pout that grew more dramatic with each second she took to respond, finally bubbling into a playful whine. 

“Lena,” Kara drew out her name, exaggerating the vowels in a comical fashion, tugging at Lena’s heart. 

“Darling, you said you wanted to give a proper show,” Lena exhaled the reminder with a gentle laugh, but her feet stopped and she turned off the music, letting quiet fall in the space. “And I don’t take half measures,” she added with a barely contained grin, her teeth trapping her lip. 

Lena brushed her own hair back from her face, sighing to herself at how unfair it was that she was the only one sweating, despite how she was merely reminding her body of the steps. Kara’s hair had hardly even pulled free of her tie, her skin tight athletic wear still pristine. If it weren’t for her huffing to show her mild frustration, Kara’s breath would be steady, while Lena was making an effort to minimize the way she panted, an hour of repetition taking its toll. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we practiced… you know, together?” Kara had gone still, as if the music was all that kept her in motion. “We’ve been doing the same steps for three days,” she insisted, her hands reaching into Lena’s space, the itch of her impatience becoming infectious as she gripped Lena’s waist. 

For her part, Lena was not upset to be pulled closer, to find her body suddenly supported by Kara’s sturdy frame, sighing as she melted into the warm embrace. Without thought, her nose tucked into the crook between Kara’s neck and shoulder, exhaling a new sigh at the clean scent, acutely aware that she was not so fresh. Fingers slipped under Lena’s loose tank top, trailing up the small of her back, and that was the straw that broke her, her shiver chasing them away, until they returned to her waist once more. 

“Distracting me isn’t going to work,” Lena warned, sparing a chaste kiss against Kara’s neck.

“But we are supposed to be this close when we dance,” Kara drawled, the words tickling Lena’s skin, the roughness quickening her heart more than the last hour of practice. “I want to learn where to put my hands,” she hummed, her lips pressing to Lena’s neck, undeterred by the sheen of sweat. 

Lena’s heavy pulse greeted Kara’s lips, but as much as her heart was swayed, she still managed to shake her head. “You need to master the basics,” Lena pushed back, even as her body was drawn into Kara. “We can’t just jump into things,” she insisted. The pitiful whine that rose in Kara’s chest made her wish she could just give in. Her arms slipped around Kara’s waist, tightening until Lena felt the held tension retreat. 

“How do we know when I’m ready?” 

In truth, Lena was a little lost for an answer. She was out of her depth. In all the years she had practiced ballet, she had rarely danced it partnered, and never without choreography. Her familiarity with partnered dances paled by comparison, and she had spent much of the last three days refreshing herself on turns and flourishes that could be incorporated into the waltz and tango. 

Impatience gnawed at Kara, who wanted results, wanted to measure their progress. She was not undisciplined, by any stretch, but she was used to being able to dive into physical activities. She had long ago done the work of learning to restrain her strength and master finesse, but there was a new challenge before her. 

Kara looked stiff in her movements. Lena couldn’t tell if it was the impatience, or perhaps frustration, or a lack of confidence, and that made it all that much harder to navigate. 

“We can try some basic steps together,” Lena conceded, “but if you step on my feet, we’re going back to practicing alone.” 

Kara pulled back sharply, her brows high, her eyes bright as they searched Lena’s face. “Really?” There was a giddiness that tugged at the corners of her lips, her grin widening, but then it faltered, her expression becoming more serious. “Okay, okay, how do I…” her question trailed as her eyes fell to her hands, her surety withering. 

Lena smiled, soft and encouraging, wanting to keep Kara’s spirits high. While she wasn’t certain that they were ready to do the steps together, she wanted desperately to see Kara succeed. “Here,” she guided Kara’s hand with a gentle touch, helping her find the proper position. “This is where you keep your hand for the tango,” she indicated, her own hand trailing along Kara’s arm until it settled in place behind her shoulder. “Stay loose. Don’t use your hands to lead,” she said as she gestured for Kara to bring her other hand up, fitting her own into it. “Don’t look down,” she reminded. 

Kara licked her lips, and Lena watched the confidence fade from her bright eyes, the way gravity dragged at them, tempting Kara to glance down. “It’s okay,” Lena breathed, a whisper that brushed against Kara’s cheek, “just do the steps you remember; count them out.”

Kara nodded, her posture stiffening beneath Lena’s hand, her hesitancy manifesting in rigidness, and as she adjusted her footing, Lena could already feel her weight was off. 

Kara counted down, her tempo a little quick, her body tense, and the first step stuttered, her toe catching slightly on the floor. Lena made no mention of it, stepping with her, keeping pace, letting Kara find the rhythm, listening to the count. “That’s it,” she chimed as they completed the eighth step, but then she felt the gears grind, Kara’s attention pulled too sharply away from her own steps. 

As Kara tried to step with the wrong foot, her rhythm shattered, her count cutting off as she withdrew the step she had tried to take. “Oh, wait, it’s supposed to be—” Lena couldn’t rely on her training as Kara tried to recover but only got further flustered by her misstep. Their feet knocked together, and that was all it took for Kara to fumble to a halt, Lena jerkily retaining her balance. “I’m sorry,” Kara rushed, her cheeks touched with color, the warmth spreading down her neck. 

Were it another day, another set of circumstances, Lena would have appreciated seeing Kara blush, but the flicker of embarrassment in her eyes and the tight bunching of her brow begged Lena to soothe her. “It’s okay,” Lena assured. “Start again,” she prompted, keeping her hands in place. 

Kara took a calming breath, slow and deep, exhaling some of the tension she had let into her muscles. Lena waited for the count to start again, and smiled to herself as Kara stepped more boldly, setting them into motion. She could feel the small span between each step, the fluidity lost as Kara internally talked herself through the motions, but they transitioned into the top of the count once more, Kara remembering the correct foot to start on that time. 

“Keep going,” Lena urged, her focus shifting to following, accounting as best she could for Kara’s inexperience leading. “Yes, there you go,” she praised as they managed to complete another eight steps. 

The movement became more comfortable, Kara’s pace evening out, her stride becoming more predictable. It wasn’t perfect, but Lena hoped it would renew her confidence. They moved about the space, Lena allowing Kara to start and stop as she needed. 

It was sloppy, technically, but they moved well together. Lena trusted Kara, and that helped. It was also to her benefit that Kara was easy to read, making it easier to know her intent. Lena got lost in the tempo, as Kara’s count dictated their evening, filling the empty space. 

“So,” the word was just as unexpected as the sudden halt in movement, and Lena’s balance faltered before Kara’s hand pulled her closer, “what’s next?”

Lena was surprised enough to laugh but reined it in before she undermined the confidence Kara had built in herself. “More practice,” she said as she caught her breath. 

Kara groaned, deflating as the air left her. “But I got the steps right,” she tried. 

Lena pulled her hand from Kara’s and shifted closer, reaching up to touch her cheek. “You did,” she affirmed, smiling softly. 

“But?” Kara’s brow raised expectantly. “I sense a ‘but’,” she grumbled playfully. 

Lena licked her lips. It wasn’t often that she had to deny Kara and rarer still that she might critique her. “Well, there are things you still need to work on before we add in anything else,” she stated lightly. 

“Like what?” Kara wasn’t defensive, but Lena sensed her excitement shriveling. 

“Well,” Lena turned her words over in her mouth, trying to guess what hole she might dig herself into, “your tempo is a little rushed,” she noted, “and your posture needs to relax.” She watched Kara’s gaze fall, and her heart sank. “Which will come with practice,” she assured hastily. 

“I know,” Kara sighed, her eyes lifting as she spared Lena a small smile. Her weight shifted, and Lena felt the silence hollow her out as Kara struggled to find her words. 

“These steps are foundational,” Lena reminded, to break the stretch of quiet. “They’re the basis of the dance, so when they feel natural to you, it will be easier to build from them,” her thumb brushed against Kara’s cheek, coaxing a shy smile from her. 

“I just want it to be perfect,” Kara admitted sheepishly. 

Lena nodded, knowing just how much Kara took it upon herself to never let anyone down. “We have the time to take things slow. We don’t need to rush to perfection.”

~

The days that followed brought impatience to a boil. They abandoned the waltz after Kara insisted it was too ‘square’. It made little sense to Lena, who had noticed Kara had picked those steps up more easily. She didn’t push it, holding onto the hope that having less options would help Kara focus. 

But each time they expanded on their steps, more of her confidence seemed to crumble, and even when they returned to the basics, Kara was struggling. She often overstepped, or turned too sharply, keeping Lena off balance and unable to compensate. Lena tried to insist that they didn’t need to be perfect, but that only seemed to invite further tension into Kara’s already rigid posture. 

Kara threw herself into her efforts to learn. She spent more and more time practicing alone--filling the hours Lena used to get caught up on business briefings and continuing after Lena had to call it quits for the night. 

When Lena woke up to an empty bed, muted bass stirring the air, she told herself to ignore her heavy heart. She didn’t join Kara right away. A part of her hoped that maybe she just needed a little space to sort her thoughts out, that everything would naturally return to the balance that was usually so easy between them.

But when Lena got to the studio, Kara’s steps were already heavy and her natural glow dulled.   
They stopped bothering to restart songs as mistakes became more frequent. Each one fed into the next, compounding the strain it had on them. 

Lena kept her smile as firmly in place as she could, but her temples throbbed and her neck was stiff from jerky stops in their dancing. With just the barest touch, she could feel the frustration that seethed in Kara’s chest, while tension made her jaw twitch and her lips twist into a scowl. 

Finally Kara pulled away, quieting the music, letting a groan rise into her throat, before it spilled from her lips to fill the growing space between them with her frustration. Lena felt it wash over her, heavy as it clung to her skin, making her steps drag as she tried to follow after Kara. 

There was no keeping up with Kara, but Lena knew where she was headed. She grumbled inwardly as she climbed the stairs to the top floor and ducked out onto the large balcony that overlooked the sprawling grounds of the manor. It was a predictable spot to find Kara staring up at the night sky, her lips moving with her silent prayers. 

Lena didn’t interrupt her. It wasn’t her place to come between Kara and her prayer, and she was grateful for the chance to catch her breath. 

“I’m sorry.” 

The words were whispered, barely audible, but they beckoned Lena closer. Kara’s gaze remained fixed on the sky, but as Lena neared, Kara effortlessly found her hand, gripping Lena as if tethering herself to Earth. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Lena promised. 

The tension in Kara’s jaw retreated and a soft smile overtook her features. The relief was brief, crumbling as Kara shook her head. “That’s not true,” she asserted. “You’ve been so, so patient with me, and I can’t even get through a single dang song…” 

“Kara, you don’t need to worry about that,” Lena sighed, but Kara flinched and her shoulders caved inward, and Lena was afraid she might let go of her hand. 

“How do I decide when to turn? Or… or, you know, anything?” 

“There’s no right way to do it,” Lena spoke slow, testing the waters, but as her words just seemed to further add to the weight piled on Kara’s shoulders, she only felt lost. 

Kara released a heavy sigh, her lips tight as she puzzled through her thoughts. “But it has to make sense, right?” There is agitation in Kara’s voice, but it was directed inward. “It’s… It’s supposed to mean something.”

Lena was on her back foot once more. She sensed she was missing the crux of Kara’s trouble, but she was fishing blindly. “Lots of dances are choreographed to mean something, but we are working with basic steps,” she reasoned. “And that’s okay,” she hastily added. “We aren’t expected to have anything choreographed,” she reminded.

“I know,” Kara groaned, “it’s not that.”

“Then what?” Lena finally pushed for an answer, anything she could work with.

“I just…” Kara’s head bowed under the weight of her own thoughts before turning back to the stars. Lena almost missed the tremble of her lip, the small stutter in her breathing, a hitch of a sob, showing the cracks in otherwise invulnerable skin. “I don’t feel connected to these dances.” 

“Connected?” Lena was gentle as she prompted Kara to expand on the comment. 

“Dancing on Krypton was a sacred art, not always formal, but so full of meaning. A flourish might be a personal touch, but it was recognized, and understood.” Kara’s hand pulled her closer, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to look away from the stars above. 

Lena took the hint and drew in behind Kara, her arms snaking around her midsection, hugging Kara loosely. “It was hard enough to learn English, but this… I just-- I don’t get it.” Lena’s chin came to rest on Kara’s shoulder, her head tipping so that her temple touched Kara’s, the contact eliciting a small shiver that ran through Kara’s sturdy frame. “I...I don’t know how to shake the… the… I don’t know... emptiness,” she whispered.

With Kara’s warmth guarding against the chill in the air, Lena was content to stay there, staring up at distant worlds she knew so little about. “I wish I had known,” Lena thought aloud, tucking her chin tighter against Kara’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Kara mumbled and laid her arms over Lena’s, threading their fingers together. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, or anything… I just didn’t know it-- I didn’t know I’d have such a hard time with it.”

Lena turned her head without lifting her chin, placing a chaste kiss against the sharp cut of Kara’s jaw, frowning at the way muscle jumped beneath her lips. “You couldn’t have known,” she reasoned. 

The night was quiet, the peace a welcome blanket wrapped around them both. Lena wished they could stay like that, that they might be allowed to forget the world and just hold each other. She knew it wouldn’t last, but as she got a taste, she found reason to yearn for more time. 

It was Kara that broke the spell, a whisper all she managed to muster. “I don’t like feeling like I’m holding you back.”

“Oh, Kara, no,” Lena said and squeezed tighter, until her arms strained around Kara. “You aren’t, I promise.” Her heart echoed the pang in Kara’s chest, knowing all too well the way expectations could eat away at one’s sense of self, every mistake reinforcing the barbs that bit into tender flesh. Lena wasn’t blind to the habit Kara had of masking her struggles, as if her worth was tied to her ability to shoulder her burdens alone and deliver on every promise. 

“We can find a way for the steps to feel more natural for you,” Lena offered. The small noise that caught in Kara’s throat suggested she wasn’t quite convinced. Lena sighed, melting against Kara’s back, hoping that her presence might be enough to remind Kara that they would face the world together, both on stage and off. 

In the new stretch of silence, lulled by the soft rise and fall of Kara’s shoulders, Lena’s thoughts wandered. She caught herself wondering how much of the pressure Kara faced was self-imposed and how much of it was born of unrealistic expectations set by people who didn’t understand the toll, perpetuated by a world that only ever demanded more and more of her. She knew the danger of asking, of forcing Kara to confront something that had shackled her for far longer than they had known each other. Deep down, she wanted Kara to seek her help--not because it would feed her ego, but because it would be a level of trust she could only dream of deserving. 

Lena circled back to the present, to the trials they faced. “Is being ‘square’ really the reason you don’t like the waltz?”

“Oh, um,” Kara shifted her weight and Lena felt the heat of her guilty blush where their cheeks rested together. “No,” she admitted, “it’s just too reminiscent of the dance of Ugir Fahtul.” Lena hummed a soft note when her suspicion was confirmed, but made no effort to press Kara for anything more. “It’s how we would mourn loved ones who have gone to rest in Rao’s light.”

Lena closed her eyes, her back teeth grinding as she wished she could retract the question entirely. “I’m sorry, Kara.” 

“It’s okay.” Kara’s sigh was heavy, her chest expanding in Lena’s arms. “I meant to teach it to Kal-El… to Clark, but by the time we met, he had little to mourn, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to learn it just for me.” 

It was like Kara was transported back in time, reliving the moment that it became ingrained in her to put others before herself, and Lena was helpless to reach her. “You can teach me,” she tried to guess at words a younger Kara was desperate to hear.

Kara didn’t respond, her body motionless, empty. Lena feared she’d hit the wrong nerve, that she’d pushed Kara deeper into her head.

“Kara?” 

“You want to learn?” The waver in Kara’s tiny voice reverberated through Lena, sinking into her chest, a strangling ache rising to meet it. 

“Yes, Kara, of course!” Lena insisted, with what little breath she could find. “Anything. Everything!” 

Kara turned around in her arms and crumbled into her. “Tomorrow,” she mumbled. “No more talking,” she pleaded, and Lena was ready to give her anything. 

~

Lena studied Kara carefully every time she recalled a pattern of movements from Krypton. She did her best to remember the meaning of each motion, and the significance it held for Kara. She learned that the closeness of Earth’s partnered dances didn’t appear all that much in Kryptonian dances, and that proximity was more often used to shift the central figure of a dance, or to ‘pass the voice’, as Kara called it. 

Lena proposed that they kept the tango as a basis for their dance, but with elements of Kryptonian-inspired modern dance blended in to ‘break’ the structure and afford Kara freedom of expression. The idea was that they could always fall back to the basic walk if being bold became too daunting. 

The change in style left them with a lot of new ground to cover, time feeling lost on earlier efforts. Without the ability to choreograph, a lot of their practice became about building a repertoire, learning how to communicate their intentions, how to transition fluidly between elements of their dance. 

Kara took to the new style, in form, soothed by the more natural feel of the movements and the sense of connection. Lena saw the spark of enthusiasm return, but in the days that followed, she grew wary of the fire. Kara was driven, focused. Single-minded in her efforts. She pushed herself. 

Lena struggled to keep up as Kara’s impatience took on new form. While she never pressured Lena, Kara did a poor job of hiding her disappointment when Lena’s exhaustion forced her to end their practices. And the next day, as Lena methodically stretched, she could feel each time Kara’s gaze shifted to check on her. It made her antsy, and the more she noticed, the less she could ignore it. 

It didn’t help that the new motions they practiced put more strain on her back. Just another thing splitting her attention. 

Lena spent most of the practice in her head, debating asking if they could cut it short. She knew she wasn’t in the right mindspace, but she found it hard to justify when Kara was so eager to continue. But when she felt the first hints of discomfort in her lower back, asking became more dire. 

“Kara,” she ventured softly.

“Hm,” Kara acknowledged, her brow was bunched in concentration. She didn’t stop the music. 

“Hey, um,” Lena started, but when Kara made her intention to dip Lena clear, she already knew it would be something she regretted. The crack of Ms. Reynold’s cane against the practice bar echoed through her head. She’d never felt it’s sting, but the threat of it laced its way into her muscles. It made her stiffen, becoming rigid when she should be loose. “Wait--” Her momentum took her backward, her footing not as secure as she needed to be.

The confusion in Kara’s wide eyes was the last thing she saw before a flare of pain shot up her back, driving her thoughts from her head. Lena twisted on instinct as her knees gave out, her body making every effort to take the stress off the pinched nerve. Her hand caught Kara’s neck, but she couldn’t feel her fingers enough to hold on as she crumpled. 

Kara was faster, sweeping her up into her arms before she hit the floor. 

“Fuck, no, no,” Lena gasped against the tide pain, sharp as it radiated up along her spine. 

“What? What,” Kara urged, her voice pitching high. 

“Tub. Upstairs,” she panted.

“Bring you upstairs?” 

“Yes, Kara. Please, fuck--” the air left her lungs as Kara didn’t wait for her to finish and sped them to the bathroom. She grunted as the abrupt halt sent a new flare through her. “Fill the tub.” 

Lena could feel the way Kara floundered, her unwillingness to let go of Lena for even a moment conflicting with the urgency to comply. “Kara, it’s okay, I’m--” the tightness in her throat made her sound less convincing. “I’m okay. Just… put me on the bed.”

Kara was reluctant until a fresh swear hiss between Lena’s lips. “Right, okay, easy does it,” Kara talked herself through setting Lena down, “I’m right here.” 

“Tub, Kara, please,” Lena urged, groaning as the familiar throbbing set in. She didn’t dare move as she waited, holding her position as best she could. “It needs ice,” she managed, knowing Kara could hear her. 

Time dragged slowly as she listened to the water run, but soon enough Kara returned. She hastily helped Lena out of her shoes and then eased her arms back under Lena’s body, lifting carefully. The groan of sympathy tickled a distant part of Lena’s foggy mind. 

“Do I count you down, or?” 

The question startled a laugh out of Lena, which choked off as she winced. “No, just do it.”

Kara whimpered softly as she eyed the icy water, but did as she was told. She lowered Lena into the frigid water, cooing soft praise as Lena urged her body not to seize up. 

The panic was not unexpected, but Kara’s voice kept her grounded. Her fingers curled around Kara’s arm and squeezed, just as her jaw clenched against the bite of cold. She focused on her breathing, forcing her lungs to draw in slowly. By the time Kara’s arms slipped from the water and Lena settled fully back, with her neck against the rim of the basin, she had adjusted. 

Kara stayed right next to her and Lena didn’t need to look to know how frantically she was being watched. “Did I push you too hard?” The guilt in Kara’s eyes hinted at how much she’d already chastised herself. 

“I can’t exactly keep up,” she said softly, “as much as sometimes I really wish I could,” she purred. 

Kara’s brows lifted and a knowing smirk played across her lips, but it only lasted a moment before her concern overwhelmed it. “You’re going to be okay though, right?”

Lena sighed. “It’s an old injury. If I take a few days to rest, I will be just fine,” she noted. 

Kara nodded, her eyes a little distant as she leaned against the tub. It had been weeks since Kara had worn her glasses, but the nervous tick of pushing them up was unconscious, her fingers fumbling in the absence of anything to adjust. Her hand lingered for a moment, but finally fell back to her side. “How long do we stay like this?” 

Lena chuckled at the phrasing, the stubborn insistence that Kara would remain with her. “Fifteen minutes is all it takes,” she said, closing her eyes as she tried to forget the cold. “I’m sorry I won’t be much of a conversationalist.”

Kara exhaled a soft chuckle and shifted a little closer. “That’s okay,” she assured, her temple coming to rest against Lena’s. 

The lullaby started softly, the message lost on Lena as the kryptonese poured over her. It lulled her into a peaceful space, forgetting the world, the waters, the pain, everything but Kara’s voice. In its thrall, she sank deeper into her head, untouched but not alone. 

When it stopped, and her own breathing echoed in her head, Lena grumbled. “Another?”

“That was three, already,” Kara kissed her cheek, “and fifteen minutes are up.” 

Lena blinked. “Oh.” Time had never felt so meaningless. She almost regretted the prospect of leaving the cold waters. Almost.

Kara stood and bent over the tub, hands dipping back into the water.

“Kara,” she half groaned, half laughed. “It’ll be easier if I get myself out,” she insisted, and Kara’s hands retreated. Well, it would have been easier if she hadn’t forgotten how weak the cold left her limbs. Her arms shook as she braced her hands on the lip of the tub and lifted herself up, and her legs felt even more wobbly. 

Kara hovered closely, and Lena decided that was better than when she had been alone climbing from the ice. Her hands found Kara’s shoulders—unflinching even as cold water soaked into her tank top—and then her arms slipped around Kara’s neck as she stepped cautiously from the tub. 

The pain was dull, well numbed, and her attention turned to her shivering. “I need to warm up,” she whispered. 

Kara nodded her agreement. “We need to get you out of these clothes,” she hummed, her eyes warming to a new playfulness. 

Lena pointed a finger of warning in Kara’s face as a grin cracked on her lips. “You will let me,” she dictated. 

Kara just smiled primly, the picture of innocence. “I’m right here if you need me.”

Lena did take advantage of that, holding on to Kara as she peeled waterlogged elastic down her legs. But when bending over wasn’t an option and she couldn’t get the clinging yoga pants down past her knees, she reluctantly admitted to needing help. 

She half expected Kara to do something cheeky as she knelt and rolled the soaked fabric down. Her hand at the back of Lena’s calf was ever gentle as she coaxed one leg to lift, easing the fabric around Lena’s heel until her leg slipped free. “Now the other,” she said, her smile chasing away the chill. 

With the yoga pants finally abandoned on the bathroom floor, Kara fetched Lena a towel, waiting patiently as numb fingers worked to divest her sports bra. Then she was wrapped in a fluffy hug, and she couldn’t bring herself to mind that it wasn’t the most effective means of getting dry. 

Kara didn’t let her go as they wordlessly shuffled into the bedroom, their most awkward dance yet, but Lena couldn’t stop smiling into the crook of Kara’s neck. At the bed, Kara stripped the covers back and turned an expectant look her way, her cocked brow asking if Lena was going to refuse help. 

Lena dropped the towel and with practiced care, kept her spine aligned while she climbed onto the mattress. She did groan as she lowered herself down, and then grumbled at having ended up face-down. Kara helped roll her over onto her back and fussed over the placement of the pillows, before removing her partially wet clothes and joining Lena. 

The covers on their own would have been slow to warm Lena, but Kara kept the bed toasty. “Let me know if you become uncomfortable,” Kara hummed softly as she settled in against Lena’s side. Lena found herself doubting that she could become uncomfortable. “You will tell me, right?”

And just like that, Lena felt like she was back in the ice bath, but the water was pouring into her lungs. She wanted to assure Kara that she would never let things go unsaid so long that she got hurt, but she knew the lie would catch up with her. 

“It’s not always easy for me to…” She felt Kara deflate and Lena felt like crumbling too, but then an arm settled over her stomach and Kara snuggled closer, holding her together. “You are easier to talk to than most,” she offered, but it felt empty in retrospect. 

“I am never looking to… to push you,” Kara whispered, “in any way.”

“I think that’s,” Lena started, fumbling and uncertain, “I think that’s something I struggle with.”

“That I don’t push you,” Kara’s confusion dragged the words out. 

“No,” Lena breathed a chuckle. “I appreciate that,” she said, her fingers unconsciously circling over the knuckles of Kara’s hand, “more than I can really say.”

Kara sighed, relaxing into her, the smallest nod pressing her chin into Lena’s shoulder. 

“When I was learning to dance,” Lena tried a different approach, but when Kara shifted next to her, it gave her pause. “What?”

“Oh, sorry,” Kara murmured, “I got a little excited. You don’t talk about your childhood… like, at all.”

“There isn’t much worth telling.” 

Kara forgave her clipped tone, pressed gentle lips to her bare skin. “Your past doesn’t need to be pretty for me to want to listen. It’s always worth telling, if it’s important to you.”

Squeezing Kara’s hand was all Lena could muster to express her gratitude, but Kara’s soft smile against her skin said it was more than enough. “When I was learning to dance, I had this private teacher, Ms. Reynolds,” she started again. “She was a foul person, probably chosen for her sadistic disposition more than her technical skill.”

Kara’s hand held tighter to her side, but she didn’t interrupt. “Lillian wanted me to learn ballet above anything else, but when I was feeling rebellious, I insisted on learning modern.”

“You were rebellious?” Kara was a little giddy as she asked.

Lena chuckled. “In my subtle way, I suppose. I was punished for it.” She chewed on her lip as she thought back, her heart echoing the pain of having her childhood constantly stripped from her. “If Ms. Reynolds taught me anything, it was composure. When I injured my back, I learned how to mask pain. If she didn’t know what hurt, she couldn’t exploit it.”

The whimper of sympathy echoed the one she had trapped in her chest as a child. “I know how to navigate keeping people at a distance. I know how to deal with people who I know don’t care about me.”

Lena’s confidence wavered, words coming less freely. “It’s the people who might care, the people I want to…” the people she was so afraid to lose. “I don’t want to shatter the way they see me… to give them a reason to regret getting close.” She took a shaky breath. “I think about it even in the tiniest moments, if me being generous will feel like I am buying affection, if I've been too curious, or shared too much. I question everything.”

“You can always ask me, or tell me, anything,” Kara promised. “I want to know if I’ve done something. Trust me, I know I can be stubborn and sometimes I get in my head too much to see what’s going on around me. I will never punish you for pointing it out.” She shifted so that she could place a kiss on Lena’s cheek. “I want to navigate those feelings with you.”

“I want that, too,” Lena admitted, both to Kara and herself. 

“That’s good, cause I’m not leaving your side until you’re better,” Kara chimed.

And true to her word, Kara was doting. The first day she insisted on carrying Lena everywhere, which was amusing and charming. She respected when Lena asked her to stop, with only minor fussing. 

Lena got ahead on some work, while Kara spent some time drawing, showing off some of the ceremonial designs she remembered from Krypton--architecture, fashion. Lena got to listen to stories and watch the memories dance behind Kara’s eyes. 

It was peaceful.

~

In the time she spent resting, Kara made real, tangible progress dancing. Truly, Lena was endlessly astonished by how easy Kara made each step look. As she followed her warm up routine, the motions were fluid and her form pristine. Lena rather enjoyed watching. 

But when their hands met and a new song started, her technical skill was all that was on display. There was no life to the movement. Kara felt rigid, even as she compensated with flawless grace. She was so focused on the product, on the perfect show, that she wasn’t letting the music touch her. And the longer they moved, the more apparent it became that Kara was not oblivious to the way she was locked in her head. 

It was disheartening to see. Kara’s smile was put on, hiding the disappointment she harbored in herself. She was unsatisfied, and lost for a way to move forward. It was especially saddening to see the contrast between her warmups and their efforts to dance together, Kara’s movements far more reserved, timid even.

Kara’s hands dropped to her sides and Lena sighed sympathetically as she turned off the music. There was deep frustration and exhaustion weighing on her shoulders, and she didn’t meet Lena’s eye. She was glad to not have to push Kara to talk. 

“I—“ the word choked off, but after a breath she tried again. “I don’t know how to forget that there’s an audience,” she managed. “I keep second guessing my choices, and thinking about— I don't know… whether it’s good enough.”

Lena’s chest felt like caving as the words hollowed her out. She felt helpless, her encouragement unable to contend with the pressure Kara put on herself. There was no denying that she wondered how much her fragility fed into Kara’s turmoil, but in the end, all she offered was patience and a reminder of her trust in Kara. 

Kara shook her head, as if to dismiss concerns Lena had not dared to acknowledge. “Can you show me how you would do it?”

The question gave Lena pause. “Do what?”

Kara worried her lip, embarrassment lifting her shoulders to guard her neck. “You know… how you would lead,” she clarified. When Lena didn’t respond immediately, her gaze dropped. “I was just-- I don’t know, I was thinking maybe I could learn--”

“Oh, yeah, no, that’s a great idea,” Lena rushed to assure her. “I just hadn’t considered it,” she admitted as she gestured for Kara to come closer.

They took a moment to adjust to their new hand placements, chuckling at the awkwardness of going against the muscle memory they had trained into themselves. “There, okay,” Lena said when she was satisfied and she started up a new song. 

“Now, when I step,” Lena started, but she never finished the sentence. When she moved, Kara moved with her. She stopped short with a soft, “oh.” 

Kara just waited, her eyes wide and attentive, and when Lena stepped again, there was no hesitation. Lena counted out the beat as they moved around the floor, falling into the rhythm of their walk. 

It wasn’t flawless, but when the song ended, they were still in motion. The weight of silence couldn’t mute the elation that filled Lena’s chest as it was reflected in Kara’s eyes. 

It felt wrong to stop, and even as they stilled, their hands remained in place. 

“Can we go again,” Kara exhaled. The warmth in her cheeks and the brilliance of her grin was intoxicating, and Lena almost didn’t question it. 

“Wait, wait,” she panted, a shake of her head needed to jar her out of her stupor. “How did you do that?” 

“What do you mean?” Kara blinked, but even her confusion wasn’t enough to dampen the excitement that buzzed through her.

“You’ve never followed before,” Lena reminded her. 

“I’ve paid attention,” she laughed, full chested and hearty. “I know how you move.” 

Kara was so steadfast, so certain, brimming with confidence that had been dwindling for weeks. With each word, Lena felt her gravity shift, her body drawn towards Kara. Each breath felt heavier, like it belonged to Kara, shared between them, sweet and filling. 

Lena didn’t need a song to move, the thunder in her ears enough to ignite the fire in her muscles. She leaned closer under Kara’s watchful gaze, until their noses brushed together, the barest contact sparking a rush of heat through her spine, blooming at the base of her skull. 

The edges of Lena’s vision blurred inward before washing with clarity, unable to see anything but the flutter of Kara’s eyelashes, and the rosy tinge in her cheeks, and the peek of tongue between her lips. Her chin tipped up, only to retreat, waiting for Kara to stop her.

Instead Kara’s hand slipped along her shoulder and up the back of her neck. Lena was holding back a steadily rising tide, but as her fingers tangled in the back of Kara’s shirt and urgency buzzed in her nerves, she saw no reason to resist. Her lips parted as she surged forward and was met with mutual desire.

Kara’s tongue welcomed hers before it pushed into her mouth, lacing her thoughts with warm bliss. The air shuddered from her chest, only for her lungs to be filled with Kara--her passion, her scent, the heated moan that broke from her throat. 

Lena’s head grew lighter, her mind sinking, bathing in the bliss of Kara’s touch. “Fuck,” she panted as her lips trailed to the side, along Kara’s jar. She blinked as her vision slowly cleared, the dancing spots retreating with each heavy breath, her nostrils flared and her cheeks hot. 

“Who’s distracting who now,” Kara drawled, her tongue finding the pulse in Lena’s neck, savoring the eager way it responded to her. 

“Still you,” Lena laughed, her head dipping to rest against Kara’s shoulder. “Give me a second,” she begged.

Kara’s chest rumbled with soft amusement. “Take all the time you need,” she purred. Her arms wrapped tighter around Lena, holding her steady, tirelessly supporting her. 

Lena let her eyes close, basking in Kara’s presence, the smooth rise and fall of her shoulder as she breathed, the easy rhythm of her heart. There was no weight hanging over Kara anymore, no air of uncertainty, no hollowness gnawing away at her. She seemed to recognize herself again. She let Lena get close.

“I think you should lead.”

Lena felt the words against her skin, but it took a moment for them to sink deeper. 

“Kara, that’s--”

“Wait, listen,” Kara pleaded and Lena couldn’t deny her. “I don’t know how or when we decided I should lead,” she said with a small chuckle, “but I’ve not felt as-- as free as I did just now. You understand the music, the movements, the audience! It’s natural that you would lead, and I can follow,” she breathed, each word coming out faster than the last, until it was spilling, partially running together. “I trust you, Lena. I know you will be brilliant, I know it! I feel it! Rao, this is-- I can’t believe it took me this long to realize.” 

Lena’s world was spinning, but in Kara’s arms she felt safe. She hadn’t even considered the possibility, not for the sake of teaching, and certainly not for their performance. Her sense of self was shattering and reforming at once. When had she internalized her role as a follower? When had she closed herself off from the idea leading? 

“Hey,” Kara nudged Lena’s cheek with her nose, “are you okay? Your heart’s all fast and I’m not even misbehaving,” she noted, making Lena snort a laugh. “I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just got excited,” Kara said softly, despite the way Lena could feel her ready to vibrate through the floor. 

“No, sorry, I just…” Lena licked her lips. “Thank you, Kara.” 

Kara hummed a curious little note, nuzzling a little closer. “For what?”

“I don’t know,” Lena couldn’t stop grinning. “For being you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the stage is set!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a much wider cast (hence me tagging the whole dang squad). Shenanigans and feels galore, enjoy!

“Lena,” Kara elongated her name, dragging out each vowel as she allowed herself to be led by the hand from the car to the entrance to a polished shop in the upper east end of Metropolis. Her head was tipped slightly back to give an easy window through her glasses to see her tightly scrunched eyes, her gait purposefully reluctant, and yet the peek of a grin undermined any effort she made to seem displeased. “You know I can hear everything,” she pressed, a laugh bubbling up behind the words. 

“Don’t spoil my fun,” Lena teased, delighted by the way Kara’s fingers played impatiently along the skin of her wrist, slipping beneath the cuff of her sleeve before retreating, only to repeat the motion. 

Lena shook her head as she ignored the ‘closed’ sign and pulled open the door, allowing herself a last moment to grin in appreciation of their shared playfulness and the exaggerated way Kara dramatized her part. But as they stepped into the carefully lit interior of the parlor, the game was finished. 

The soft chime of a warning bell heralded the arrival of a tiny woman, streaks of silver tucked into a neat bun behind her head, her keen eyes peering over bold lenses. Lena let Kara’s hand go and her smile smoothed as Kara stood taller next to her, her shoulders squared as if her cape hung upon them. 

“Lena, darling, you have left me to tend to people whose noses only ever point with the sticks up their asses,” the woman tutted as she shuffled closer, her arms overflowing with stacked garments. 

“Gisele,” Lena greeted her, a small frown offered in sympathy before they shared a light chuckle. “I appreciate you allowing me to come by privately,” she glanced about the otherwise empty shop while the woman heaved her armful onto an empty table. 

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Gisele waved dismissively, “gave me the chance to air this place out,” she snorted. 

Lena grinned easily, reminded of why she always insisted on going to the woman for all her needs. She spared Kara a small smile, but the brief moment her eyes were off Gisele was enough for the woman to close the distance between them. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Supergirl,” she hummed, standing close, her stature made obvious as she looked up into Kara’s slightly wide eyes. “I've never seen you in Earth’s clothes,” the seamstress noted as she looked over Kara’s wardrobe, reaching out to pinch the fabric of her blouse tighter around her waist. 

“I don’t get to wear a lot from my home, these days,” Kara said, her throat bobbing as she went rigid under Gisele’s inspection. 

“Such a tragedy,” the woman paused her appraisal, softer eyes gazing up. “Can you describe what you might have worn?”

Kara’s brow twitched, furrowing slightly as her eyes became distant. “Well, um, hm... due to shortages of plantlife, most of our fabrics were synthetic.” Her eyes moved unconsciously, not really seeing anything before her. “I remember the robe I wore to the announcement of an heir to the House of El was so slippery, and reflected light almost as much as the crystals that lined the celebration hall. I loved holding my arms out and watching the light move along my sleeves,” she recalled. “Everyday robes were duller, like a smooth cotton. Blues, golds, and whites, mostly. Red was reserved for crests, I think.” 

Lena didn’t want to pull Kara out of her memories, but she cleared her throat softly. “I brought some of your sketches,” she noted, drawing Kara’s startled gaze. “It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable sharing,” Lena assured. 

“Oh, no, I just-- I hadn’t even considered trying to recreate…” the hitch in her voice tugged at the strings of Lena’s heart.

“It would be an honor if you allowed me to try my hand,” Gisele’s usual sharpness was discarded. Kara nodded, first to Gisele and then to Lena. 

Lena pulled her over-large purse from her shoulder, fishing out the folder of drawings from within, handing it over to Kara to look through before it was given to Gisele. 

“Oh, this was the dress Lara Lor-Van wore when she married Jor-El,” Kara gushed, offering the drawing over to Gisele. “I remember liking how the back was cut, and the fact that there weren’t sleeves,” she chuckled to herself, pointing to the page. “Entire sectors of Argo City were regulated with universal air conditioning, so we didn’t really have seasonal wear, and everything had sleeves,” she groaned. 

“Going sleeveless certainly makes my life easier,” Gisele chuckled. “And you like this cross of fabric at the back?” Kara nodded her affirmation. “You have the shoulders to show off,” the seamstress noted, disregarding Kara’s blush as she went to fetch a pad of paper and a tape measure. 

Lena had to keep from chuckling as Kara stood comically still, allowing the tape to be wrapped around her neck, and spread across the backs of her shoulders. “Almost all our robes were floor length, but I don’t move well in long dresses,” she admitted, her eyes turned upward, fixed on the ceiling. 

“Is there something else you had in mind?” Gisele was ducked, guiding the tape around Kara’s bust, waist, and hips in turn, jotting notes for herself. 

“Um,” Kara held an arm out towards Lena, making a small grabby-hand motion, “I can sketch something quick.” It was only then that Lena realized she wanted paper, and she hastily materialized the pad Kara usually drew in. 

Balancing the pad in one hand, Kara quickly sketched out her idea, talking through her thoughts. “Okay, so, there can be some length, maybe tapered in to a point here,” she turned the half-done drawing around, displaying what she meant. “A slit up one side would give me a good range of motion,” she noted. 

“Hm,” Gisele touched two fingers to the side of Kara’s thigh, a muffled squeak from Kara tickling Lena. “Is here about where you’d want the cut to start?” 

“That... um, yeah, that should be good,” Kara agreed, and Gisele took a new measurement. 

“Good,” the seamstress hummed thoughtfully. “Now, talk to me about the neck and trim,” she prompted, returning to the original drawing. 

“Normally, if there isn’t an over-shawl or cape, the neck is the most detailed, especially in a wedding dress like this one,” she shrugged, flipping through her drawings looking for another example. “Oftentimes it was meant to compliment the couple’s marriage bracelets, or the crest of a major house.”

“And what design would you want?” The question was worded innocently enough, but Lena knew the prying tone and the inquisitive squint to Gisele’s eyes. 

Kara was mercifully oblivious. “Oh…” she thought for a moment, her eyes sifting through nothingness. “Actually, I have something that might work… give me ten minutes?” Lena and Gisele’s brows rose in time, and Kara made a small gesture toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

The air stirred as she vanished from the shop and left Lena to face the unrelenting gaze of an overly curious seamstress. “You two are close.” Back to blunt. 

“We’ve worked together a lot recently,” Lena supplied. 

To her surprise, Gisele didn’t press her. “Dress or suit, darling?”

Lena gave her a grateful smile. “A suit,” she said, earning a small note of acknowledgement. “You remember the two-piece I wore to the CatCo acquisition announcement?”

“Are you trying to insult me,” Gisele inquired playfully. “I’ll never forget. I had a lot of fun detailing the lapels.”

Lena grinned, recalling how the seamstress had made a lot of noise about the lapels at the time, not all of which was enthusiastic. It had been a proud moment, when she had allowed herself to be more bold about her feelings for Kara. “You can go light on the intricacies, and I want it in red.”

“Mmm, always a good color on you.” 

Kara returned as they were glancing through materials, debating the merits of maroon as opposed to a royal shade. Her clothes were wind swept and she smoothed her hair back into place. 

Kara opened her hand to display a thin gold chain nestled in her palm. “My mother had it made for my aunt, who was… not particularly inclined towards jewelry,” she breathed shyly, “hence the simplicity.” Her eyes dropped to follow the winding form. “Astra gave it to me in private.”

“I am no appraiser, but that is a very fine weave,” Gisele noted, and as Lena got closer to look, she had to agree. 

After a look that sought permission, Kara allowed Lena to lift it out of her hand. “It’s heavy,” she noted.

“It’s actually not gold,” Kara explained. “It’s not as malleable, and a fair bit denser, actually, so you don’t have to be too careful with it,” she shrugged for Gisele’s benefit. “Just don’t let it near alcohol. It will react and then eat through everything,” she warned. 

“Only coffee on this job,” Gisele noted with a chuckle, taking the chain when Lena offered it to her in turn. “Beautiful.”

Kara preened, her eyes brighter as they both showed their appreciation for the chain. 

“Alright Supergirl, one last thing.” Kara’s brow rose in question, but Gisele continued without pause. “What color would you like your dress to be?” She gestured toward a large array of sample fabrics, in a broad range of colors. 

“Oh,” Kara sifted through her options. “This one reminds me of the waters of Telle. I hope I am deserving of his blessing.” 

Gisele nodded politely before turning a cheeky smirk towards Lena. “Royal red.” 

As they departed, Lena regretted that the dress would not be ready in time for their private rehearsal. She was really looking forward to seeing Kara in it.

~

As Lena finalized the arrangements with both the manager and event coordinator at the Hotel Versailles, she tried to ignore the way her friends had packed together, huddled by the closed bar. They exchanged hushed whispers, policed their own behavior, but ultimately looked stiff and hesitant. Out of place.

“I’d like the bar staffed until 10,” she dictated, “but then complete privacy until midnight.” Neither man blinked. 

“Of course,” the manager acknowledged as the event coordinator retrieved the proper agreement document for her to sign. “Would you like us to have anything chilled ahead of time to leave with you?”

Lena smiled, appreciating the diligence. “I saw you have Dom Pérignon,” she commented. 

“Yes, ma’am. We have both the ‘04 and the ‘96 vintage,” he supplied.

“I’ve heard good things about the ‘96,” she noted simply, receiving a polite nod. “Please have six bottles chilled for us.” 

“Is there anything else,” the event coordinator asked as he offered over the contract.

“I’d like control over your sound system.”

~

With the details sorted and agreed upon, Lena followed after her friends as they were led to the private lounge she’d rented for the night. Kara and Winn entered first, their heads ducked together, their giddy commentary going unheard, but as their laughter grew more bold, their excitement spilled outward to fill the intimate space. James dragged them both to the bar. 

Brainy was giving an impassioned lecture about the efficacy of salt in salvaging most any dish--J’onn his captive audience--oblivious to the way Nia corralled him into a booth. There were three such booths, each wrapped around a table facing the stage, able to sit four, maybe five or six if people were comfortable with each other. 

Alex and Kelly walked with Ruby between them, directing her focus around the room. They trailed a bit behind as Ruby rushed to the edge of the stage, but then Alex helped her hop up onto the ledge. “This is so cool,” Ruby marveled as she turned to look out over the room. 

Sam let Lena catch up with her and together they watched Ruby twirl happily on the stage. “Thanks for letting me bring Ruby,” Sam spoke softly as the door closed behind them. “She has really missed everyone since we left,” 

Lena shook her head. “Of course,” she offered with a tender smile, “I would have never asked her to miss this.”

Sam’s smile twitched and faltered, something unspoken flitting behind her eyes. “She would really love to hear that,” she sighed. “She has begun to think of everyone as family.”

Lena got the sense that she wasn’t talking just about Ruby, but when Sam let it go, she chose not to press. “Well, so, how has Metropolis been treating you both? 

“Better than I expected.” Lena raised a brow to prompt her to continue. “Ruby’s reconnected with friends she had originally left behind when we came to National City and I actually bumped into a familiar face.”

“Oh?” It wasn’t often that Sam danced around the details so much.

“A certain detective who I believe had a hand in arresting you once,” Sam chuckled.

Lena’s brow rose higher and her gaze flicked to the stage, where Alex had joined Ruby, deep in a comical charade for their captive audience. “Maggie?”

When Lena looked again, Sam had fixed her with a stare that warned against prying too deeply. 

“Before you ask, we’re just friends.” Lena squinted as she tried to decide if she believed Sam, the playful purse of her lips suggesting she didn’t. “I did come onto her before I knew what had ended things between her and Alex.” 

“Sam,” Lena exclaimed with a half-laugh, but as the hint of embarrassment in Sam’s expression smoothed out, Lena followed her gaze to Kara, who was all smiles as she moved towards them with two cocktails in hand. 

“Not my finest moment,” Sam shrugged. “A story for another time,” she hummed as Kara reached them and their collective attention turned to the beaming kryptonian. 

Lena let her gaze be dragged lower by the cut of Kara’s suit and the deliberate way she ignored the buttons of her shirt until it was tucked into her pants, leaving plenty of sunkissed skin exposed for Lena to drool over. 

“I just came to tell you both to stop hovering by the door and join everyone,” Kara announced. “Tequila Sunrise or Planter’s Punch,” she asked Lena, indicating each drink as she named it’s contents. 

“Trying to loosen me up,” Lena asked with a cocked brow, as she accepted the proffered punch. 

Kara’s newly freed hand continued forward, fingers ghosting along the length of Lena’s forearm until they hooked around the back of her elbow. Kara leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Lena’s cheek. “I know better ways to do that,” she drawled, inviting warmth to color Lena’s skin and sear the touch of her lips into Lena’s buzzing nerves. 

“But,” Kara pulled back, the rush of cool air sending a shiver down Lena’s spine, “a bottle of red wine can make Alex a lot more approachable,” she noted, her eyes on Sam.

“You’re not allowed to say anything,” Sam warned with a gentle sternness, the height she had over both of them leveraged more pointedly. 

Kara was the picture of innocence, her grin lighting the dim area, her eyes dancing with mirth. “I’m not the one who wants to get with her ex,” she chimed. When Lena’s elbow nudged her side, she relented. “If you are worried about things being weird, you should talk to her. She’s in a pretty good space right now.” 

Sam seemed to be debating unloading a slew of questions, but held her tongue. 

Kara’s attention was pulled sharply away. “Did I hear someone say something about singing on stage,” she called across the room, turning one last grin towards Lena before retreating to join her sister. 

“I suppose we should find seats,” Lena chuckled as she watched Kara shoo Alex off the stage, her nose wrinkled as she scrunched her face into a dramatic pout. 

“I’ll take that,” Sam snatched the drink from Lena’s hand. “Rum’s never been your thing,” she noted with a grin that challenged Lena to deny it. Lena just rolled her eyes, and they settled into a booth with Alex and Kelly. 

The night began with a duet from Kara and Ruby, their rendition of Let It Go met with rowdy applause, and even Alex had nothing to say about Disney making an appearance. They were followed by an impromptu comedy set by Winn that evolved into him and Brainy trying to one-up each other with increasingly obscure tech puns. Kelly and James performed Who’s On First, which was delightfully novel for Ruby. Brainy had notes to give about improving communication. Nia urged J’onn to do impressions. He declined. 

As the acts ran dry, alcohol poured freely. Some handled it better than others, but spirits were high, and that was what Lena cared about. 

At ten, as promised, they were given privacy. They broke into the Dom Pérignon, and after some uneven pours got passed around by Winn, James made sure to top off anyone who wanted more. 

Champagne flutes were raised in a toast to friendship, and then to Lena for getting them all together for a night of fun. Out of habit, she brushed the recognition away, citing a need for her and Kara to practice in front of an audience as the ‘real’ hero of the night. 

“Have I told you how much I love your girlfriend,” Nia giggled, her arm strung over Kara’s shoulder. 

“You can’t have her,” Kara laughed back. Despite the jovial nature of the exchange, Lena found herself struggling to laugh along. 

“I’d also like to raise a glass to bubbles,” Brainy slurred happily, his unsteady glass getting close to a wide-eyed Kelly. 

“I think you mean ‘bubbly’,” Nia corrected with a snort.

“Au contraire, the sensation of bubbles is absolutely fascinating.” 

“You should get up on stage before we can’t stop them,” Alex urged, side-eying their drunken friends. And that was all the reminder everyone needed to get excited about the final act of the night.

Kara’s jacket came off and then she offered her phone over to Ruby. “You can have the honor of choosing a song for us,” she announced. “It’s already connected to the bluetooth, so just pick anything on the playlist,” she instructed before bounding easily to join Lena on stage. 

They shared a smile, each shaking out their hands as nerves began to rise. Kara’s shoulders squared, and with a sigh, the tension eased away. Lena focused on her, drawn into the twinkling blue of her eyes, rather than the stretch of skin that called to her like a siren’s song. She shifted her weight to ready herself. 

Toxic started and a laugh burst from Kara’s lips, clearly delighted at the prospect of dancing to Britney Spears. “Yes!! Good choice!” When she caught Lena’s bewilderment, she ducked her head, her grin turning guilty. “Sorry, sorry! Can you start again?” 

Ruby obliged, giving them a moment to straighten. 

Kara took a step back, her brow raised and her smirk cocky. The span of quiet was heavy with anticipation, and Lena rolled her shoulders and forced them to relax. 

The intro opened with its familiar sequence, quick strings that hooked them into the song. If the glint in Kara’s eye wasn’t enough, her posturing made it very evident that she was ready to play. Her arms extended outward, hands moving fluidly in the open air, while her hips swayed suggestively. Lena took a beat just to watch, but when Kara’s hands redirected and slid along her stomach, gravity wouldn’t allow her to stay away. 

Even as Lena’s gaze tracked the teasing motion, she felt Kara’s smirk daring her to touch. And like a challenge, Lena rose to it. She stepped into Kara’s space, met fire with fire, their faces so close, their lips drawing in the same air as they stared each other down. With a grin of her own, she turned, stepping pointedly as she circled Kara.

Moving into place behind Kara, Lena’s hands replaced hers just in time for the lyrics to come in, and Kara sighed back into her body, whistles and cheers applauding them from beyond the edge of the stage. The return of the beat was punctuated by Kara twirling, their hands finding each other with practiced ease. 

With her hand molded to Kara’s waist, her fingers itched to pull her close and keep her there, their bodies pressed together. Kara’s touch inched along the blade of her shoulder, enticing her to taste deliciously poisoned lips. 

Lena advanced, her step deliberate, quickened by the roaring of her pulse, the thunder in her ears almost enough to overwhelm the song. Kara matched her, gave herself to Lena’s guidance, and the rush of it was intoxicating. 

The spark was all it took to ignite the dry pyre, and without blinking, Lena walked into the blaze and allowed herself to be consumed. Each time she lifted her arm to let Kara twirl beneath it, the air stirred around them. It was alive, feeding the rising flames. But no matter how much room she allowed, Kara was always drawn back into her arms, hungry for more. 

Lena embodied the inferno within, greedy as she took everything Kara gave. She pushed them, until their feet were a blur of bold steps, the stage burning away around them. It was thrilling, dangerous, and she loved it. 

Lena overstepped, her foot catching against Kara’s, and her momentum took her stumbling forward. She knew she was falling, but she didn’t care. She crashed into Kara’s chest, abruptly halting. They panted together as they righted their feet, quickly regaining their poise. “I’ve got you,” Kara promised, the fevered little grin that tugged at her lips showing she was just as addicted. 

The beat was still in their veins, and they fell into it once more. It was so easy, so natural. Lena felt free to exist within the dance, to let her body dictate every step. She could trust that Kara was with her, ready to walk through the same fire. She didn’t want it to be anyone else across from her, and she was ready to face her own ruin for just one more taste. 

They were still dancing as the song ended and Lena wished she could relive the moment all over again, her feet finally slowing. 

“Hot damn!!”

Lena blinked, her surroundings snapping suddenly back into place. She blushed and with Kara’s hand still in hers, they turned to face their friends. Hooting and wild applause greeted them, and a barely drowned out comment about finding a room. 

Lena’s limbs buzzed with a warm excitement, her body light and breathless. She let Kara drag her by the hand, spending the time it took to return to the lounge floor wishing they did have some privacy, if only so she could collect herself. She was raw, having let her walls down for Kara.

“That was epic!” Ruby declared, and the room echoed the sentiment. 

“You didn’t tell me you were going to lead,” Sam nudged her with an elbow, and Lena had to focus to keep from swaying on her feet. She barely managed a shy grin in response.

“Right? I wasn’t expecting that!” 

Lena didn’t catch who said it, and when she scanned faces, no one seemed to blink at the comment. She wanted to ask why, to press for clarification, but her mouth was too dry. 

“Lena has a better head for leading,” Kara chimed, her grin light and easy. It made her question if she had read too deeply, if she was being too sensitive about a harmless thought. 

“You were both fantastic, and I for one, cannot wait to see your final performance,” Kelly encouraged warmly. 

Lena excused herself to go grab water, and in her absence, the conversation turned and the night moved on. She lingered longer than she strictly needed, most of the reprieve spent urging her heart to steady. 

When she returned, Lena sank into an open seat next to Kara, whose hand settled over hers on her thigh. Ruby looked utterly thrilled to be sandwiched between the Danvers Sisters, even as the playful ribbing escalated around her. 

“Just because your tastes are bad,” Kara huffed, “doesn’t mean you have to impose them on anyone else.” Kara used her shoulder to nudge Ruby. “Don’t worry about her, she just hates fun.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Musical numbers are not the be-all-end-all of cinema. That’s all I’m saying.”

Kara waved Alex off. “Singing can be so powerful,” she said to Ruby. “It really helped me learn English, when I first got to, you know,” she dropped into a hushed whisper, “Earth.”

Alex’s comment about Somewhere Over the Rainbow never being the same was overshadowed by Ruby’s wonder, while Lena listened more intently. “Oh wow,” she breathed, echoing the curiosity that drew Lena in. “No wonder you’re so good,” she reasoned, “if you’ve been singing since you got here.”

“Aww!” Kara beamed brightly. “Thank you! You have very good pitch control, yourself,” she noted, “and I would know,” she said with her brow raised and a finger lightly tapping her ear. 

Ruby brightened, reflecting Kara’s grin back at her. “So, when did you learn to dance?”

“Oh,” Kara’s hand lifted, bringing Lena’s with her, pressing her lips to Lena’s knuckles. “Lena’s been teaching me,” she explained, briefly meeting Lena’s gaze with pure adoration. “She was professionally trained!”

Ruby’s wonder shifted, wide eyes falling on Lena for a breath, just long enough for warmth to fill her chest. “Tell me, Luthor,” Alex leaned forward with her elbows perched on the table, “how many times did Kara step on your feet before you realized she has two left feet?” 

Lena’s smile faltered as the moment slipped away, but there weren’t any eyes on her to see it. 

“Hey!” Kara protested immediately. “I’m not that bad.”

“She’s been very careful not to step on me,” Lena divulged, “and has been very dedicated to practicing.”

Alex’s brow rose comically. “That’s a first,” she exhaled. 

“Lena has more patience than you, maybe that’s why,” Kara threw back. 

“I don’t have patience? Me?” Alex punctuated with a sharp laugh as her jaw worked, her eyes alight with playful exasperation. “I taught you how to throw a proper punch! Meanwhile, you’re the one who decided your time was better spent racing Barry!” She exhaled a heated breath, her head shaking slowly in disbelief. “Who do you think taught you any form of discipline,” she scoffed, the question making Kara gasp, her offense belied by her unwavering smile. “More patience my fucking ass,” Alex huffed. 

“Language, Danvers,” Sam warned without turning away from her table and conversation. 

Alex ducked her head closer to Ruby with a guilty little grin. “Your mom’s not kryptonian, is she?”

Ruby giggled and shook her head. “That'd be news to me.”

Alex laughed with her. “That’s good! It’s hard enough watching my mouth around one,” she joked, her gaze rising to catch Kara’s from across the table, Ruby mirroring her. “Now, I have to go apologize before I’m not allowed to be your aunt anymore,” she cleared her throat, her guilty expression returning as she began to slide out of her seat. 

Lena caught the flicker of disappointment on Ruby’s face, the urge to ask Alex to stay that never made it to her lips and instead melted into an accommodating smile. It echoed inside her, pulling her ribs tighter around her heart before settling heavy in her stomach. She felt the hollowness in the space left beside Ruby. 

Alex stopped behind Kara and bent over to not-so-quietly whisper in her ear. “You’re lucky someone can put up with you,” she teased. She prodded Kara’s shoulder with her finger before pointing it at Lena. “You better not let her go.” 

Kara’s ears began to color as a shy smile tugged at her lips. “I don’t plan to,” she chuckled, her teeth all that kept her grin from lighting up the whole room. Her bright eyes seemed to give Lena a glimpse into Kara’s head, her thoughts all dancing around Lena. “You’re everything,” she hummed as she leaned in to place a soft kiss on Lena’s jaw, making heat bloom in Lena’s skull. 

“Don’t be a tease,” Lena said under her breath, loud enough just for Kara, but as Kara straightened in her seat, Lena felt the pull of her gravity. The air went with her, leaving Lena breathless and working harder than usual to keep her expression smooth. 

Lena watched with mild amusement as Alex’s brow rose and she took her leave without further comment, making her way to the table where Sam sat with Nia and J’onn. 

Kara giggled to herself. “She’s having a good time,” she commented, happily sipping at her drink. 

“I’m glad,” Lena preened internally, riding the feeling of having provided that opportunity, only to watch Kara’s brows bunch and her head tip to the side.

“Speaking of having a good time, I have to go make sure Winn doesn’t—” A loud pop echoed through the lounge, everyone’s shoulders rising together as they were all startled. “Oh,” Kara cleared her throat, glancing with everyone else towards where Winn was laughing and pouring himself some more champagne, “he was quicker than I expected. Excuse me,” she said as she carefully maneuvered over Lena’s lap and out of the booth to go take care of their drunk friend. 

Lena sighed as the hollowness of Kara’s absence was immediately notable, but she smiled as she shifted closer to Ruby, the table shared just between them.

Ruby licked her lips, slowly spinning her drink against the table. “So, um, do you… do you do this a lot,” she asked, eager to fill the sudden quiet.

Lena cocked her head. “This?” 

Ruby shrugged and used her chin to point around the lounge. “You know, party at fancy places like this,” she supplied clarity. 

“Oh,” Lena nodded her understanding, and bit back any comment that might suggest that the hotel lounge was far from the ‘fanciest’ place she’d had a private event. She shook her head. “No,” she answered simply.

Ruby’s brow furrowed curiously, her eyes more intent as she lifted her drink to her lips. “Why not?”

“Well, you know,” Lena started, but found she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer in a way that didn’t sound like a business analysis. “I’m… very busy.”

Ruby nodded slowly, but her eyes were busy reading Lena’s face. After a breath, she seemed to commit to the thought that circled around her head. “Mom says you undervalue the time that is just yours,” she divulged. 

Lena coughed softly as the wind abruptly left her lungs. “Well, I suppose I did hire her to be honest with me,” she took a long drag of her champagne, washing away the surprise. 

Ruby shifted in her seat, her eyes dropping to her drink. “Sometimes I forget you’re her boss,” she admitted, her fingers playing along the grooves in her glass. “You don’t act like a boss.”

Lena was glad she had already swallowed. “I don’t?” Her brow rose, prompting Ruby to explain.

“Yeah, ‘cause bosses are lazy and entitled,” Ruby offered. “That’s what my friend Fiora says, anyway.”

“Hmm,” Lena smiled to herself, “well, I do try very hard to be neither of those things,” she assured, while she grappled with the unexpected pride that welled up inside her. “And what else does she say about me,” she asked, trying to take back some control over the course of the conversation, unable to handle any more suckerpunches. 

Ruby’s head cocked, her brow rising as if to directly mimic Lena herself. “That you could talk anyone into selling out their own mother,” she deadpanned.

Lena exhaled a laugh, her tongue playing in her cheek as she couldn’t keep from grinning. “Did she really say that?”

Ruby’s face broke into a guilty grin. “No,” she pursed her lips, but nothing could contain the playfulness. 

“Ah,” Lena acknowledged, lifting her glass to clink with Ruby’s, a cheers the teen reciprocated. “You should take credit for your brilliance,” she advised. “The world doesn’t often reward humility.” 

There was a moment that Ruby seemed to sink into her own head, her grin fading, a sober air surrounding her. “Sometimes I wish it would,” she sighed.

“Me too,” Lena drank to the idea. The stretch of silence made Lena wish for Ruby’s smile once more. “Hey,” she shifted a little closer, until their elbows brushed together, “I know I just said I’m busy,” Lena noted, “but I want you to know that I will always make time for you to come visit,” she offered. 

Ruby blinked and then a wide grin cracked to reveal her brilliance once more. “Really?”

“Of course,” Lena breathed, her chest filling with warmth. 

Ruby’s arms snaked around Lena’s torso, hugging her from the side until Lena turned in towards her. While Lena was slow to return the hug, unsure where to put her arms, Ruby’s affection came easy, reminding her of Kara. She sighed as she relaxed around the teen, resting her chin on her shoulder. 

“I didn’t know how to ask,” Ruby murmured. “I… I know I’m a kid and all, and you have to like, save the world every other day,” she rambled, “I don’t want to be an extra burden.” 

“Oh, Ruby,” Lena soothed, pulling back to look the teen directly in the eye, “you are never a burden.” She tried to smile, but the words carried the weight of her own desire, the wish to hear them said to her. “You and your mother are both very important to me,” she insisted, her eyes stinging sympathetically as she watched Ruby blink to chase away overjoyed tears. 

Ruby’s gaze shifting to above her shoulder was the only warning Lena got before distantly familiar lips pressed to her cheek. “We love you, too,” Sam said as her hand settled on Lena’s shoulder, squeezing gently, while Ruby nodded earnestly, agreeing with her mother’s assertion. 

“This Arias teamup is hardly fair,” Lena huffed, earning grins from both of them. “I love you both,” she said, barely above a whisper. 

Sam gestured with a small nod for Ruby to scoot out of the booth. “I think it’s about time we turn in,” she announced softly, her hand slipping off Lena’s shoulder. “Thank you again, Lena.” 

Lena kept her smile firmly in place as she rose, desperate not to let on that she wished they would stay. Across the lounge, J’onn was bidding goodnight to a clingy Winn, the affectionate ‘Papa Bear’ nicknaming not enough to deter his departure. And like that, the end of their gathering came swiftly upon her. 

Lena saw Sam and Ruby to the door while Alex and Kelly took it upon themselves to escort Nia and Brainy to their room, hastily calling their parting words as they herded the two along. Winn’s attention had turned to Kara, giving J’onn the opportunity to make a discreet exit. 

“Okay, here we go,” Kara coaxed as she carefully pried Winn’s empty glass from his hand. She guided him, his progress start-and-stop as his balance seemed inconsistent. She took the opportunity to hand the glass off to Lena and grab her jacket, slipping back into it. 

“Who’d’ve thought you’d let someone else take charge,” Winn murmured. He pulled at Kara’s jacket, as if convinced he was helping her put it on. She humored him for a time before gently swatting his hands away. “Do you let her wear the pants, too,” he joked, careless as he added salt to the fresh wound. 

“You know that’s not how things work,” Kara sighed, steering him away from Lena while shooting her an apologetic look.

“No, no, yeah, no, I know,” he slurred, nodding to agree with himself. But he had no concept of the nerve he’d struck. It echoed back through the night, twisting every conversation, stripping away the warmth and excitement. “Pants are pants, like… like people are people,” he jabbed a wobbly finger at Kara, asserting his position on the matter. 

Lena was left alone with James, after they watched together as Kara helped Winn out of the lounge. “I’m sorry about Winn,” he offered as she joined him at the empty bar. 

“It’s far from the first time I’ve heard something like that,” she dismissed without pause. 

James nodded slowly, his expression soft. “That’s not what’s bothering you,” he guessed, taking a stab between Lena’s ribs, hitting a tender spot. As the rawness was thrust into the center of her attention, her lungs shuddered and deflated. “It’s okay if you prefer to talk to Kara,” he offered.

Lena shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, despite the ache just finding the air to speak. It was deeply ingrained to deny any hurt, but it was worse when she hadn’t thoroughly evaluated the nature of her pain. The roots always ran deeper than what managed to reach the surface. 

James offered a small smile, sympathetic and understanding. “Whatever it is, something or nothing, Kara will want to know,” he encouraged. “She cares.”

Lena’s eyes closed as she willed her heart not to overreact and her face to not give away the depth of the cut that opened her up. “I know she does.” Tipping back the last of her drink, Lena put her glass aside on the bar. “It’s everyone else.” 

James tilted his head, his expression faltering. “Everyone cares,” he pressed hesitantly. 

“No, I know they do,” she sighed, wishing her words hadn’t come out as they had. He didn’t push her to talk, and in the welcome silence, she was free to pick through her own thoughts. “I was prepared to assert myself in a relationship with a man, to demand to be recognized as his partner and equal,” the words felt off as she said them, not quite landing on the issue she was struggling with, but she didn’t want to retract them. Instead she barreled forward, hoping that with enough rambling she’d eventually find her way through the mud. “It’s one thing when the media paints me as Supergirl’s human sidekick. They can’t see past her power. I understand the narrative that surrounds her, and the position we are all in when we stand beside her.” 

“Did we make you feel… lesser?”

“No! No. It’s just… I know that people want to show how happy they are for Kara, and to be supportive of our relationship, and... and…” her thoughts circled too quickly, the train of rationalizations spiraling deeper, giving leeway even as she desperately wanted to enforce boundaries. “I get that no one is saying that she’s ‘the man in the relationship’, or… or that I’m ‘hers’, but…”

“No one’s calling her yours,” James supplied, frowning as understanding dawned. 

Even as he recognized the exact crux of what weeded its way into her thoughts, she still averted her eyes, staring down into her empty hands. “It feels so overblown when I say it out loud. Like I’m picking a fight… and I don’t want to…”

“But little things add up, don’t they?” She dragged her gaze upward, meeting his too-keen eye. “Maybe a comment is insensitive or a joke lands wrong, but that you could shrug off,” he continued, the air around them heavy and sober. She swallowed, the desire to mute her feelings with another drink growing more urgent. “It’s the awkward little laughs of people who choose not to say anything… that’s what sits with you. That’s what you walk away with,” he acknowledged, “the feeling of being alone, of questioning whether it’s worth saying anything at all.”

His words resonated in the hollow of her chest. “I don’t know how to say that it hurts, that it’s not a joke to me.” She didn’t know how to justify her feelings, especially as she found herself comparing their hardships. 

But his tender eyes beared no judgment. “I know.” 

That acknowledgment broke her and healed her all at once. Lena leaned her head against his shoulder, glad to have his sturdiness and empathy in that moment. 

“No one wants you to stay silent,” he finally said. “I know our actions said otherwise tonight, but you’re not alone, Lena.” 

“I know,” she echoed, but she would never find the words to say how much she needed to hear it.

“The thing about Kara…” he continued, “she’s magnetic.” Lena laughed, despite herself, and nodded without lifting her head, thinking that perhaps the word fit no one else better. “She draws people to her, and she always has. But,” he tipped his head against hers, “she also hides more than people realize. She guards others from herself, from her history, her pain, her anger.” 

Lena swallowed the heavy thoughts, her throat tight around it all. “She shoulders a lot,” she said.

“She does,” James agreed, his shoulder rising as he breathed a deep sigh. “You two are very alike in that way,” he chuckled to himself. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if she thinks we are all an extension of herself--the Superfriends, after all--and she desperately wants you to feel loved by us, she really does.” He turned to place a tender kiss to her head. “I know she clings tightly to what she’s afraid to lose, but you should talk to her about giving you a little space to be your own person,” he suggested. 

After a long stretch of silence, James pulled back and Lena reluctantly let him. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for listening,” and for not writing her feelings off, but she couldn’t bring herself to voice that. 

“Always,” he smiled, warm and reassuring. “Just, um, before I go, I want to say one last thing on the topic.” Lena’s brow rose. “Don’t, you know... don’t forget all of this if you two get married. It’s gonna be ‘Lena Luthor and her wife’, as far as the media is concerned,” he noted, “and the media is going to be all over you. I would know.”

Lena sank into her thoughts as he bid her a good night and took his leave. She gave the staff permission to tidy up and left to find the suite she shared with Kara, who grinned sleepily as she wrapped Lena in a hug, clinging even as Lena awkwardly slipped off her heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this brings us to the finale!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! This has been quite the ride. Please enjoy!

Lena had stripped down in the venue’s green room, her pants still hanging in the protective bag, tucked underneath her jacket within. She hastily shrugged into her shirt, her fingers oddly numb, the buttons posing more of a challenge than she might have hoped. She caught a glimpse of her own scowl in the full length mirror provided, her brow twisted, the tension making her temples throb.

She had never been the type to back down, or show weakness, but there was a whisper in the back of her mind that grew louder as she stared. It took on notes of familiarity, and as the cloud of her emotions grew thicker in the air, she might have sworn that Lex’s, or perhaps Lillian’s, lips hovered close behind her ear, their words sending a sickening chill to crawl down her spine.

Lena rarely felt performative, not in a suit, not at the head of a boardroom, not on stage or at a podium. She owned her power, grew into her wardrobe, and spoke truth--her truth-- always.

_You belong in the shadows of more impressive people._

Even as her eyes closed tight against the message, the words gnawed at Lena’s ribs, while cold sank into the cavity of her chest, touching her spine from within. The voice had morphed away from carrying the typical Luthor bite, instead ringing with the light laughter that brought images of Kara’s brilliant grin to paint the backs of her eyelids.

Lena breathed slow, careful, willing her heart to steady. Falling prey to thoughts born of trauma, and fed by anxiety, would only serve to break her. Her dry lips were numbing as she swiped her tongue across them, a better alternative to the eagerness of her teeth to tear into her flesh.

“Hey,” the word was soft in a way the voice in her head wasn’t, and Lena blinked, finally noticing that Kara stood behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Lena didn’t miss the dark shadows that had gathered in the sunkenness of her own eyes and the tinge of red that wreathed green. Her heart started involuntarily, hammering hard against frosted ribs. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” Kara offered, her eyes dipping to peer within Lena’s chest, something she often did when she was particularly concerned.

“No,” Lena whispered, shaking her head as she turned away from the mirror, preferring to know Kara was real and not a phantom conjured by her demons to haunt her in the waking world. “Please,” she reached out, fingers tentatively trailing up Kara’s bare arm, the barest contact chasing the cold from her fingers, returning sensation to them, the heavy beat of her heart resounding back through her from where she could feel Kara’s skin against hers.

“Can I help?”

Lena had to swallow down a pitiful whimper as she thought the drastic shift in temperature--cold to hot--might shatter her ribs. Warmth bloomed in her chest, each pulse of her heart urging it to spread through her veins, tingling through each muscle. Lena could only nod.

Kara stepped a little closer, and she felt like a furnace, radiating heat to wash over Lena’s chilled, sweaty skin. Steady hands lifted to guide the two halves of Lena’s shirt together, deftly slipping the lowest button through its partner hole.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kara ventured carefully, her eyes trained on her task, giving Lena enough privacy to navigate vulnerability at her own pace.

Lena focused on Kara’s hands, on the progress they made up Lena’s front, careful and easy. She wished she couldn’t hear the echoes of Kara’s voice, twisted into something inhuman, the feathery quality doing nothing to dull the sting of it lancing through her chest, inviting a numb chill to return.

It was one thing to push back against the cruel denigrations of her family, to wield spite as a weapon, to thread it into the fabric of her being and let it harden her. It was another to find the seeds of doubt sprouting within her, weeding its way into her gut, its poison already in her veins, warping the image of Kara even as she stood ready to offer assurances to the contrary.

Logic turned against her, as she rationalized against giving her fears a voice. Kara would tell her what she needed to hear, but there would be no way to know it was genuine. She would be left with a bitter aftertaste as she drank from already tainted waters. Courage slipped between her fingers, withering in the face of her own weakness, the way she allowed her demons to walk in Kara’s skin.

Kara’s fingers paused, and Lena swallowed, her chest lurching as she realized how long silence had gathered between them. “It’s okay, shh,” Kara soothed, “just breathe. Slow,” she coaxed, exaggerating her own inhalation, “in, and…” she exhaled and Lena’s lungs deflated in time, her ribs ready to cave. “That’s good. In again.”

Against every overcautious instinct, Lena let Kara lead her through the simple act, emptying her head, giving herself over to the care of another. As anxiety-laced thoughts bled away, she grew lightheaded, her body trembling as every muscle seemed to forget how to support her. Strong hands gripped her waist, keeping her steady as her vision shrank away, darkness swallowing her. All she recognized was Kara’s voice, walking her slow and smooth through the shadows of her mind, guiding her away from all that lurked there, waiting to consume her.

“That’s it,” Kara urged, her voice setting the rhythm of Lena’s heart. “Come back to me.”

Lena blinked, the sudden flood of light disorienting, almost nauseating. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, her throat knotting around the words.

“Shh,” Kara shook her head, her eyes gentle as they searched Lena’s.

Time slowed to a crawl as Lena begged her own body to obey. Part of her wanted to fall forward into Kara’s arms and let silence bury her doubts, but another part of her could not ignore the way her wound would scab over and scar, and the next cut would need to be deeper just to reach the rot again.

A slow, shuddering breath wracked Lena’s chest. “I’m not…” she choked on her own voice, a sob rising in its place, small and pathetic, twisting like a knife in her gut. She railed against it, berating herself for her show of weakness. The fires of anger, vile as they were, tempted her, the conflict eroding her mind. “Is the suit too much?”

Lena’s lips tugged into a scowl at the harshness of the question, the accusatory bite, the unforgiving edge she directed outward, like a blade pressed to Kara’s skin, ready to sacrifice innocent blood.

Kara didn’t so much as flinch. Her posture was open and easy. Her hands loosened, but stayed on Lena’s waist, thumbs unconsciously soothing her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she bit out, only to pause and remind herself that Kara was not her enemy, nor did she deserve to act as Lena’s outlet. “I mean,” she tried again in a near whisper, “why is it a suit that makes me feel powerful?” She blinked to ward against the sting of tears. “Am I… am I just falling into the trap of performative standards?”

A distant voice of reason recognized that it was anxiety coloring her thoughts, mangling them into something unruly, dangerous even, if they were used to justify actions. But in that moment, she needed that reason to come from someone else.

“Believe me, it’s not the suit,” Kara exhaled a breathy chuckle. Lena felt the kneejerk instinct to recoil, but Kara’s hands kept her in place. “You are powerful,” Kara was firm in her insistence, as if the authority to decide was hers alone. At the same time her smile was nothing but warm, glowing soft, bathing Lena. “Being comfortable in your own skin just makes it easier for anyone else to see.”

Kara took hold of Lena’s hand, drawing it up, lips pressing reverently to Lena’s knuckles. It took all of Lena’s strength to keep her fingers from shaking in Kara’s hold. “Wait right here,” Kara sighed as she began to retreat.

Kara held her hand as far as their arms could stretch to allow, clearly displeased by the idea of being apart. She returned before Lena even registered their fingers separating, air churning in her wake, ruffling their hair. As the room settled once more, Kara offered over Lena’s pants. “Here, put these on,” she directed.

Lena was happy to comply, grateful to not think about her actions and to just let Kara guide her, if only for that moment. She urged her fingers to cooperate, her body leaden as she lifted each of her legs and slipped into her pants, finally tugging them up over her hips.

“Good,” Kara praised, making Lena’s heart flutter maddeningly and fire lick along the raw muscles in her chest. It seemed such a betrayal of what she stood for, to rely on Kara’s approval to stand tall, and yet she craved it.

Kara resumed buttoning Lena’s shirt, working up until her bra was no longer visible. Appraising her own work, she nodded and then produced a thin gold chain. Without a word, she fastened it to Lena’s shirt, one end hooking around the top button, while the other end slotted into the partnered hole. The chain arced neatly across her chest, dipping in a smooth curve. It was hard for Lena to watch, but then Kara’s hands retreated. “Perfect,” she grinned.

“Turn around for me,” Kara nodded toward the mirror over Lena’s shoulder, and as if unable to deny Kara, her feet obeyed.

In the mirror, Lena finally recognised how the chain was an exact replica of the chain that followed the curve of Kara’s throat. They matched.

“I had to alter the clasps to work with a button up, but I think it turned out well,” Kara preened from behind her. Fingers pushed the tail of her shirt into the back of her pants, following the curve of her body, methodically tucking her shirt in, smoothing it into place against her body.

“I can do that,” Lena protested, but it was half hearted at best. Her body ached to be touched by something other than the weight of her own insecurity.

“Let me,” Kara insisted, or perhaps pleaded, but didn’t move again until Lena gave a shaky nod. She buttoned Lena’s pants when she was done, and her hands shifted up, her arms wrapped loosely around Lena’s front. Her body was flush against Lena’s back, and she breathed smooth and easy, Lena’s rhythm matching hers. Their hearts beat together, pounding in Lena’s ears.

“Look at you,” Kara breathed. As much as Lena wished to see hunger in Kara’s eyes--something that might have distracted from all she didn’t want to face--there was only admiration burning away the walls Lena hid behind. “The power you hold--that you embody,” she hummed, a rich timbre that vibrated down Lena’s spine, echoing through her entire being, “is yours alone. It’s not defined by what you wear. It is not dependent on me, or anyone else.” Her eyes stayed locked with Lena’s in the mirror. “It is all you.”

“I wish I believed that,” Lena admitted. She had told herself many times that she did, and usually that was all she needed, but there was just enough doubt cast by unresolved trauma, gaslighting that eroded her ability to be sure of anything.

Kara nodded, a small frown tugging at her lips. “If anyone deserved to never have to question themselves, it’s you, Lena.”

Lena huffed a wry chuckle. “Are you sure, Supergirl?”

Kara’s brow quirked upward, a laugh rumbling deep in her chest. “I always need someone to question me,” she mused, her face turning in toward Lena’s neck, lips heating her skin. “That’s what I have you for,” she purred.

“Is that all?” Lena swallowed despite herself, her spine unexpectedly molten.

Kara relented, retreating, her attention returning to the mirror. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she hastily assured, worry threading back into her expression, knitting her brow.

“I know,” Lena panted. “I wasn’t trying to imply… it’s okay,” she returned the assurance, beginning to feel more like herself, her thoughts clearing, returning to proper order.

Kara smiled shyly. “Okay, good.” Her hands began to pull away. “I have one more thing,” she announced.

“Oh?” Lena adjusted to the cool air in Kara’s absence, taking the time to retrieve her jacket and slip into it.

As her hands smoothed down her front and her heart began to steady, Kara returned with a box. She lifted the lid to reveal two gold bands, nestled in a velvety cushion. They were too large to be bracelets, but while they were not complete circles, Lena couldn’t see how they might be put around one’s neck.

Kara lifted one of the bands out and put the box aside. She stood facing Lena, holding the band with both hands, her thumbs touching the edges of the break in the circle. She lifted it above Lena before lowering it into place on her head.

The metal of the crown was cool against her skin, and heavier than she might have expected. As she inspected herself in the mirror, she got a better sense of how it was shaped. The band was smooth up until about her ears where it crested like a wave that broke at her temple, feeding into another wave that dropped into sharp points that just reached her brows.

“Crowns?” As surprised as she was to be wearing a crown, Kara’s shy blush and intent stare confused her more.

“Proposals weren’t common on Krypton, because we had a lot of arranged marriages, but broken crowns,” she pointed to her own forehead, where the gap was in Lena’s crown, “were worn by couples who wanted it to be known that they would soon celebrate their union, before they made their bracelets.”

“Oh,” Lena’s wit abandoned her as she reeled internally, eyes wide and heart thundering.

“I hope this wasn’t the wrong moment to ask,” Kara said as she shifted her weight. “I wanted it to be a private thing, so you wouldn’t feel any pressure to say yes or anything, and I thought… I don’t know, after everything this last month, and all the years we’ve been friends, and more than friends,” she rambled, “I hoped you’d want to--”

Lena hadn’t really known she was in motion until, like the waves that adorned her crown, she crashed. Her lip nearly split as she collided with Kara, her ‘yes’ spilling with her unbidden tears over Kara’s skin.

Kara groaned into her mouth, her words dying on Lena’s lips, replaced by her tongue, heated and earnest, only to pull back sharply. Her eyes were wide, frantic, her cheeks flushed and even her ears showing color. “Yes?” A shy, hopeful smile spread across her lips, and Lena almost chased them.

“Yes,” Lena breathed, even as the air burned up in her lungs. “Yes, Kara, yes!”

Lena was hoisted into a crushing hug, finding herself being spun as Kara twirled excitedly. “Yes,” Kara repeated delightedly, laughing full bellied, her body practically vibrating. Lena could only echo the laughter and wait for her feet to return to solid ground. “Oh, Lena, I love you!”

Lena had forgotten all notions of power, realizing that what drew her to Kara was security--not protection, but the freedom to be herself, the safety to voice her fears, and the knowledge that she would always have support.

Lena teetered as she found her footing once more, Kara’s hand hovering close in the case she needed help. Her crown sat a little crooked on her head and Kara righted it with a giggle. “We should probably take them off for the dance,” she mused, and Lena agreed.

With all the will Lena could muster, she steadied her hands, lifting the other crown from the box, watching the elation erupt in Kara’s broad grin as she raised it up. _“El mayarah,”_ Lena said as she set the crown on Kara’s head.

~

They were not the only participants in the show, and Lena spent most of the event wishing she was watching while snuggled up with Kara on the couch at home. They were seated beside Jamila and her father, situated front and center. The coordinators had gone to great lengths to capitalize on their attendance, and it had even been revealed that Jamila would be announcing them.

At the interlude, Kara was dragged away to mingle and brought a delighted Jamila with her. Lena glanced towards the girl’s father, Zahir, who looked just as bewildered as the day she’d first seen him. “Don’t worry,” she offered. “Supergirl will take good care of her.”

Mirth danced in his eyes for a moment before he shook his head. “Oh, I have no doubt,” Zahir chuckled. “She’s loving this,” he said as he turned to look over his shoulder, their eyes both scanning the crowd to find Kara and Jamila laughing together with a few other children in attendance.

“I’m glad,” Lena said, momentarily caught thinking about her future with Kara and what it might look like. “She’s a bright girl.”

Jamila’s father turned back, his grin shy, but full of love and wonderment. “Don’t I know it,” he exhaled. “She’s been watching your talks—I couldn’t say which ones, I don’t really understand them myself.” His smile faltered a moment, but then warmed. “She used to watch her mom’s talks, but even before her passing, my little girl had them all practically memorized.”

Lena’s expression melted into her mask of politeness as her chest squeezed. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, but the comment was waved away.

“After Jamila was rescued, I was afraid I might not ever see her smile again. She’s been through so much,” he trailed off, but Lena didn’t need any time at all to guess at how losing a parent and being kidnapped was only the tip of the iceberg. There were always struggles that couldn’t be represented by concrete events or quantified within an equation. Her own life was a testament to how people rarely bothered to look passed what was presented to them. “I can’t ever thank you enough for all you have done for my family,” he chanced another look over his shoulder. “My baby girl is smiling again.”

Zahir’s eyes widened as they returned to Lena. “Oh, oh— Lord forgive me, uh, I’m sorry, you have to go up on stage and I’m getting all emotional…” he fished a flattened pack of tissues from his pocket and hastily offered the whole thing over. “This is why Zuri always teased me about wearing my heart on my sleeve,” he rambled, retracting the pack at the sight of Lena’s knitted brows, only to pull a tissue from within and offer it once more.

Lena felt the first tear touch her cheek and half her vision blurred all at once. She snatched the tissue with a small word of thanks and held it carefully beneath her eye, pressed up against the lashes, allowing her tears to drain directly into the soft cotton. “Keep your heart on your sleeve,” Lena advised as she crumpled the dampened tissue and checked the state of her mascara. “Your openness is what helps Jamila smile more than anything else.”

Zahir’s shy smile crumbled as they were rejoined and they awkwardly inquired into the fun Jamila had greeting people with Supergirl. Lena was grateful when the house lights dimmed in a flicker of warning and people were encouraged back to their seats.

The speech by Cat Grant, another surprise guest, might have been the highlight of the event, but Lena could hardly pay attention. It was a powerful insight into the importance of fostering healthy communication with children so that they know they can trust adults in their lives and speak openly about what they observed in their worlds. Lena made a note to catch the speech on YouTube, but was more focused on keeping her heart from busting out of her ribcage.

Kara never turned away from the stage, Lena knew because she could not help glancing over each time her thoughts strayed dangerously, but the gentle brush of knuckles against the outside of her thigh invited Lena to discreetly fit their hands together. She squeezed, pouring all her apprehension into the one act.

Lena’s hand ached by the time Cat returned to her seat and one of the organizers quieted the crowd. “And now we would like to welcome Jamila, as well as Supergirl and Lena Luthor to the stage.” The crowd did not stay quiet.

They rose together from their seats and Jamila turned to give the ravenous onlookers a shy wave. She took a hand from Kara and Lena each, grinning as she walked between them to the stairs at the far left of the stage. When her foot caught in her dress and she looked unsteady trying to climb the steps, Kara gently scooped her up to sit in the crook of her arm, mounting the steps with ease, Lena trailing just behind.

They stood in the glare of the spotlight, Lena by Jamila’s side as the small girl’s head rose above all but the balcony seating. The organizer offered Kara the mic to hold for Jamila, well secured in her other arm.

Kara was radiant, her crown glinting and splendid in the light, but her hair was waves of gold that spilled into a sea of blue. Her dress did little to hide the cut of muscle, and even without her crest adorning her front, she looked powerful. Lena had caught the peek of thigh many times over the course of the day, but didn’t dare let her gaze drop to the slit that ran up the length of Kara’s leg. Instead she lingered on bare shoulders, feeling warm in the layers of her suit. She could only hope the red muted the blush that rose in her cheeks.

When the crowd quieted, Jamila used the hand not holding Kara’s neck to unfold a small sheet of paper, the shake of her hand likely visible even to the farthest seats. Kara lifted the mic closer to her mouth, holding it steady so that Jamila could focus on reading.

Dark obscured the faces of anyone beyond the first row of seats, and they blended into a shifting mass, like one large creature leering up at the stage. They were patient, but the yawning void left room for terror to fill in the gaps. “T-today it is m-”

Lena felt for her, her own fingers trembling in sympathy. Kara’s gaze flicked to catch hers, eyes wide and pleading.

Lena stepped closer. She touched Jamila’s arm gently, resisting the urge to frown when Jamila flinched. “It’s okay,” she promised. “Would you like me to?” She held a hand out for the sheet that had Jamila’s prepared speech. The little girl nodded fervently.

The sheet was heat worn, crinkled by the friction of restless fingers. The announcement was only two lines long, printed in bold lettering. Lena accepted the mic from Kara and turned herself to address the crowd.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you all for joining us today,” she began, her voice carrying through the hall, before picking up where Jamila had left off. “Today it is my honor to stand beside my heroes,” she read. She was grateful for the bubbling of chuckles that filled the space she needed to unknot her throat. “Ms. Lena and Ms. Supergirl.” There was no denying how Lena’s nerves buzzed with overwhelming intensity at the acknowledgement. The title of hero had never felt so desirable as when offered by a child, a genuine and heartfelt generosity. “Please put your hands together for their performance of Take Me to Church!”

And the crowd did. A cacophony of cheers and clapping erupted through the hall. A stagehand ran up to take the mic away before disappearing into the shadows once more.

“Could you hold on to these for us?” Kara reached up and carefully lifted the crown from her own head, passing it to Jamila, who marveled at the fine gold. “They are very precious to me,” Kara noted with a bright grin.

Jamila clutched the crown to her body, guarding it in her arms. After a small mental stutter, Lena eased her own up and offered it over to Kara. She had adjusted to the weight of it, and in its absence, she felt compelled to right it on her head, as if it had settled into a crooked tilt. The phantom sensation lingered even as Kara walked forward, taking Jamila with her.

There is a moment the crowd seemed to forget Kara’s ability to fly, a collective breath drawn in surprise as she stepped directly forward off the stage. The buzz of excitement grew as she floated gracefully forward to land before their seats. She let Jamila down, and the little girl gave her one more hug before scampering to join Zahir in the audience, both crowns nestled in her lap.

Kara gave a wave to the crowd as she kicked off from the ground. She glided backwards to the stage, the roar of applause rising over the thunder of Lena’s heart in her ears. Kara turned just in time to step onto the edge of the platform, strutting forward with a beaming smile reserved just for Lena.

Lena lifted her hand, extended it towards Kara, and welcomed her partner back to her side. Hand in hand, they faced the crowd, and the world beyond them. Their fingers tangled together as the lights fell dark over them and a hush descended on the audience.

“Are you ready, my love,” Kara whispered in her ear, before pulling her towards the back corner of the stage.

“So long as I have you,” she breathed. And she believed every word.

Their hands slipped apart before the spotlight found them and they stood with two paces between them. There was a heavy quiet, stretching as Lena was held steady by Kara’s gaze, before the music filled Lena with life.

Their approach was slow, measured, a mirrored step that brought their bodies close. Lena ached to kiss Kara, to taste the words of _the last true mouthpiece_ , but the touch of their foreheads together urged their hands into motion. Loosely clasped hands extended out towards the back of the stage, Kara’s fit neatly into hers, while she eased her other hand into place against Kara’s waist.

Her breath felt trapped, forbidden, locked in her chest. It wasn’t until Lena felt the light press of Kara’s fingers at the back of her shoulder that she was released, sighing as she stepped. Kara matched her stride, short and careful, building slowly.

Lena’s shoulders turned, guiding Kara to quicken her steps, the rotation of her body accentuated by the flare of her dress. The crowd buzzed, urging another display, hungry for all they teased. They slowed, drawing out the beat, their weight shifting together, their bodies making more room, easing apart.

The break between hand and hip drew Kara to pivot, and then a sharp step set them into a fast walk, twisting and turning as they moved about the stage. When Kara’s steps weren’t pointed, she was gliding, her toes carving bold arcs over the floor, but she always fit herself back into the stride Lena set. Kara returned to her, leaned into the support of her body, and welcomed her guidance.

They were met with a roar of approval even as they slowed once more, their hands finding new purchase on each other’s bodies. Their breath was heavy, matched to each other, and Lena could feel the way Kara’s heart beat in time with hers. They shared a smile, and there was no question that the crowd had vanished. They were alone, with only the music between them.

Lena turned Kara to face away from her, coaxed her to lean back into her embrace. Lena touched Kara with reverent fingers that whispered over the fabric beneath her ribs and across her collar to climb her throat, until Lena felt the cool metal chase her away. Her hands retreated to Kara’s waist, the shift of her weight like the sighing of a tree in a steady breeze. They leaned together, facing the audience but not seeing them, caught up in the storm.

Their arms lifted towards the sky together, a prayer of thanks to Rao for bringing them together. Their chests filled with a long breath before Lena eased their arms down. Kara’s foot stayed just inside of hers as she brought them to cross over her planted heel, but when she swept her step back, Kara knew to twirl in her arms, chasing until they stilled with their chests together once more.

Lena’s hands were more fevered as they dragged down Kara’s sides, conforming to the shape of her body. She met Kara’s eyes as her hands tightened against her waist, and she saw only trust, immeasurable in its depth. She lifted, guided Kara’s body to rise into the air.

Kara’s hips pulled out of Lena’s hands, dragged upward by a seemingly invisible force, and they both had the same instinct. Their hands clasped together as Kara rose higher, their arms extending between them. She was suspended above Lena, tethered only by Lena’s hand.

Lena could feel the build of tension, the air thrumming and wild. Her arm began to strain, her fingers slipping as they pulled apart, her body growing taut as she tried to hold on. _Amen!_ The song echoed in her pulse, her chest heaving as she begged with the whole of her being to have Kara back in her arms. _Amen. Amen._

When their fingers separated, it was like the snap of an elastic, and Kara dropped.

Lena rushed forward, one powerful step that opened her up to receive Kara. As soon as Kara’s feet touched the ground, landing neatly, Lena understood how the motion followed into a dip. It felt natural to brace her hand against Kara’s back and to bend them both forward. Kara’s body arched beneath her, undaunted by her ‘fall’, and if they were in private Lena would have breathed all her praise against Kara’s open chest.

Instead Lena tugged, hard, pulled Kara against her body, so hard that her feet took her backwards, as if stumbling. Kara’s arms around her neck were all that seemed to keep her from falling as their weight shifted so drastically. And then their hands moved again. Their dance became raw, a blur of steps and twirls, unfettered and instinctual.

They spilled into each other’s space, becoming one on that stage, bound only by the sway of their hearts to the song. And they didn’t stop until the final note dragged them back to reality, their bodies turning outward towards the stage, finally acknowledging that they were not alone.

They broke apart with a laugh as the audience rose to applaud them. With their hands held, they bowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider checking out the rest of the Big Bang collection! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr: @mssirey

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [It Takes Two (art)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170033) by [hushalambe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hushalambe/pseuds/hushalambe)




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